Book Four: Trinity Rising
by Tiffany Smithi
Summary: Book 4 of the Tassof Series. Claw Island is under attack by Blightghast, but Destiny's Edge destroys the chance of the Pact happening by killing the threat without it. But Zhaitan's wrath is not to be ignored, and soon, three more champions are threatening Lion's Arch. As the Orders despair, will Tiffany be able to start the Pact, or succumb to her own paralyzing fear of failure?
1. Chapter 1: Flame Campaign

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Tiffany and Forgal get to Cowlfang's Star and are introduced to the Iron first-among-equals Legionnaire, Groma Spinebreaker, who turns out to not like the Vigil very much. But she lets them fight and help kill the Flame shaman. Then, she leads the large unit of charr northwest into Flame territory, pushing the front lines forward. On the way, Tiffany and Forgal have some talks about various things, and get to be friends again. Rytlock arrives, nearly kills Spinebreaker for treating Tiffany and Forgal like gladium, and 'introduces' them to Rox.

* * *

Chapter one: Flame Campaign

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

So I decided not to go with _In Times of Trouble_ for a book name, but I think that _Book Four: Trinity Rising_ has a good ring to it and is a better book name overall.

This is book four in the _Tassof Series_. (Which, now I think of it, needs a better name. I'll think of one later.) If you haven't read/heard of the other books - _Tyria's Real!_, _Soldiers, Scholars, and Spies_, or _Reforging the Edge_ (also known as _United We Stand_) - you should go read those first.

Now, refresh on the disclaimer just because it prolly needs doing again!

I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. Every recognizable character is ArenaNet's. I also lay no claim to any song in this series (so far, I believe, I've mentioned _Seagulls, Stop It Now_ and _Let It Go_ and _See You Again_). I have mentioned other books/movies/fandoms throughout the series (I believe I mentioned the _Wheel of Time_, _Harry Potter_, and a few others) and I lay no claim to those, either.

And then there's the characters that I _have_ invented and am quite proud of, but whom I consider their own selves because that's how I work. (I consider all Anet's characters their own selves, too, but that's a separate issue and just shows how obsessed I am, and Anet should be happy I think that.)

Also, the new name (_Trinity Rising_) must be attributed to ZenoLucario (you know him as Leon or Vargok) - he thought it up in a brainstorming session.

_**Okay, here's the story now**_

* * *

While the three Vigil members trek northwards, led by Vargok, Forgal keeps an eye on Tiffany, who remains stolidly silent. Beorn, however, does not bother to hide his wariness of Forgal. The bear keeps a pointed gaze on Forgal at all times, and probably only avoids tripping on anything due to the mental link with Tiffany.

But Forgal appreciates the silence - it gives him a chance to think. He can't really trust Tiffany's loyalty or motives, which pains him. He wants to be able to trust her, but he can't. The woman in front of him is a mystery. She is quite capable in battle, and he respects her for that, and yet they can never be more than acquaintances with her shady position in the Order of Whispers.

She is only an Initiate, he knows, but he doesn't know anything about the Order of Whispers. Maybe it's a test or something, and he is the subject of it. It wouldn't be the first time that the Order had wronged him.

The charr Crusader in front of him does not seem to notice the tension between the two Warmasters, but that is just as well. It is a private matter, one that Forgal is a little grouchy that Almorra is taking interest in, though he can see her reasoning.

* * *

They only reach the Town of Cowlfang's Star at noon on the second day, and Vargok leads them straight to whom he tells them is Legionnaire Groma Spinebreaker.

"I have come to fulfill my promise, Legionnaire," the Crusader says, saluting.

The iron-clad charr looks over the two Warmasters. "Two allies - and one a human? Bah! They can't fight."

Stung, Tiffany fires back, "I am a Warmaster of the Vigil, Legionnaire. I assure you, I _can_ fight."

"Vigil, eh?" Legionnaire Spinebreaker huffs. "We'll see. The gladium who leads you strutting posers is a puffed-up peacock. She hasn't seen real fighting."

Tiffany instantly fires up. "General Almorra is a better fighter than _you_," she retorts. "And she has a better heart, too. That's what matters." Only after she finishes does she realize that she has never heard General Almorra referred to as a gladium.

"You can't fight worth a shake of my tail if you think your squishy emotions are what matters," Spinebreaker scorns. "Go ahead, die to the Flame shaman if you like."

"I'll take that as a challenge, then," Tiffany says coolly. "Where is this Flame shaman?" She would have said something weird like "I fight for my leader's honor," but she does not, mostly because it is implied already, and it is the sort of thing blind, lovestruck heroes say.

"To the north," Vargok interjects, "but we're not going alone. That's foolish."

"We never intended to go alone," Forgal informs the charr.

"I'm not sending soldiers in behind you," Spinebreaker scowls. "You'll be at the back of the line."

Tiffany nods. Saying she'd planned to do so anyway would just fuel the arguement. She does recall that, to charr, the back of the line is the place of ignominy and dishonor, but she doesn't care. Surely the charr have archers, or artillerymen behind the - oh wait. Iron Legion shooting from behind the Blood Legion while the Ash Legion sneaks around.

Forgal, on the other hand, does not use a bow - his skill lies in the blade. He scowls, and Spinebreaker notices.

"Master another weapon before you find yourself on _my_ front lines," the Legionnaire smirks. "We're Iron Legion - if you can't handle an artillery machine or gun, you're out."

Forgal raises his eyebrows. "I wasn't protesting my placement," he says mildly. "I was protesting the only duty available to me - protecting Tiffany."

"That was a joke, right?" Tiffany asks. She wishes she didn't have to ask - before their arguement, she would have known right off the bat it was a joke.

Forgal seems to be thinking along the same lines. "Of course it was a joke." He frowns contemplatively.

"Good to see you're taking it in stride," Spinebreaker huffs. "Now get out of here and familiarize yourself with the lay of the land."

"Yes, Legionnaire," the three Vigil say, saluting.

Vargok leads them to a nearby tent, where a spread of maps are scattered on a table. Tiffany, however, looks at Vargok. "Aren't you a Legionnaire, too?"

"Yes, but I'm under Legionnaire Spinebreaker. She should be a centurion, but she and a few other Legionnaires lead together - there's not a single centurion over them all."

Tiffany nods. "I see. So, where's the Flame shaman here?"

Vargok makes his way to a map. "He's at the Blasted Hearth, north of Invictus Castrum. It's hard to get to, and the route is full of Flame Legion." His claw traces a route from Cowlfang's Star to Firewatch Encampment, then over a bridge and north. "There's a tunnel here," he says, tapping a stone wall on the map, "and it goes north through this hollowed-out mountain range - at least, that's what I think it is - to the Blasted Hearth."

"What about outside the rocky boundaries?" Tiffany wonders. "Is there any way to scale them? Because if I could get up on a ledge here, by the Blasted Hearth, I could snipe him off easily."

Vargok pauses. "It would be hard," he says after a moment. "Just sniping him off. It's a great distance. But the impossible part is getting up - you'd need a grappling rope, but no charr can throw a grappling hook as high as you'd need it."

"I can shoot an arrow up and over, perhaps," Tiffany frowns. "How long would it take to get there?"

"A few hours. We should be relocating to Invictus Castrum soon, though, and it won't be far from there."

Tiffany nods. "I can scout it out once we move there. What's this?" she asks, tapping the rough sketch of a building or two just south of Gladefall Waypoint."

"An ogre kraal. They mostly stay out of our way."

"We could recruit them, though," Tiffany notes.

"They fled Branded. I doubt they'll want to participate in more fighting."

Tiffany just nods. "No harm asking. Now, if I _can't_ grapple my way up the ledge, we'll be moving in through this hollowed out mountain range?"

"Hollowed out but open to the sky, yes," Vargok nods. "If I didn't know better I'd say the whole thing had been raised by an elementalist, it's that precise and well-defended."

"Could be," Tiffany shrugs. "Can you describe the terrain? Rocky, ramped, or full of potholes?"

"This part here, just before the Blasted Hearth, is sloped up rather steeply. The rest is rolling ground, slanting up this way and that in small mounds. As you can see, it's narrow and dotted with higher ridges."

"Easy ambushes," Forgal notes.

"Yes, that's the problem. The Flame Legion tear half our soldiers to pieces before we ever get to the Blasted Hearth."

Tiffany frowns. "You think you could take him down if you had as many soldiers as you start out with?"

Vargok nods. "Definitely."

"Alright, that's our task, then. Let me think a minute." She frowns at the map, tracing the terrain absentmindedly. "Are there any dredge around? We could use their tunneling machinery to make a hole in the rock wall right up by the Blasted Hearth."

"Don't need dredge for that," Vargok points out. "Or their machines. The Iron Legion can blast our way in - it's quicker, too, and we don't care about living in the breach we make."

"Brilliant!" Tiffany smiles. "We'll just need soldiers through here to keep the other Flame Legion back while the rest of you deal with the shaman himself. I'm guessing it's not easily defensible?"

"Easy enough," Vargok shrugs. "It kind of gets narrower at the part we have to defend."

Tiffany nods. "Could you launch an attack from the normal way in, to distract them?"

Vargok nods. "With enough manpower."

"Hm. We'll need enough people to draw the attention of the Flame Legion through the whole area - maybe a strike team for the shaman would be best, while the rest of us distract them."

"We've tried that before," Vargok grimaces. "Failed."

Tiffany frowns. "Why, exactly?"

"Fur is flammable," Vargok shrugs.

"Sounds like you need more Vigil, and more elementalists."

"Spinebreaker isn't a fool. She won't execute her promise to leave you at the back if you can be instrumental to winning."

"Alright, that's good. How many elementalists are there between the three camps?"

"A fair number - they mostly specialize in water, earth and air, though. The firey ones are in the Flame Legion." Vargok sighs.

"I'm guessing this shaman is an elementalist. He'll be able to counter any water-based attack, meaning we need to use water for healing purposes only. I'm guessing the majority specialize in water?"

"Yes."

"Alright, the number of elementalists will depend on how big our team is," Tiffany decides. "Aside from them, though, what hurts the shamans the most?"

"Anything, really. He's not immortal."

"Hmm. Maybe I'll leave the rest of the plan up to you two, then," Tiffany suggests. "I'm better at exploiting weaknesses in a single target than just attacking."

"Alright," Vargok nods. "Why don't you go get a look around the camp, talk to some of the others and get an idea of how the fight's going."

"Yes, sir," Tiffany says, saluting.

* * *

Over the next day or so, Tiffany spends her time familiarizing herself with the surrounding terrain and charr, brainstorming new ideas for assaulting the Flame shaman, and making herself useful.

When they move up to Invictus Castrum, she takes a foray north to see if she can shoot over the wall and climb it, or else find a place to blast in. As far north as she can get, the wall is more spikes than anything else, and she finds a gap just large enough for her to fit through.

She looks around cautiously, but none of the Flame Legion see her. She surveys the Blasted Hearth before her - it is a large plateau, surrounded by spikes and/or cliffs, and, of course, hot and firey. Burning chains suspended from an overhang high above, each ending at a different length, make the place seem more suited to its name.

Near the edge of the plateau - it juts out above the path up to it - a charr is standing, talking to the Flame Legion charr standing below.

Vargok was right, the path up is fairly defensible. It won't be easy, per se, but doable. She also knows the Flame shaman is tougher than he looks, and has Flame magic on his side. This one won't be sniped off by arrows.

She quietly retreats back to Invictus Castrum and reports to Vargok and Forgal.

"I didn't see any way to climb up higher than the Blasted Hearth, but we can blast in easily through a gap I found."

"The plateau seems a lot bigger - and a lot smaller - than it looks when you get down there," Vargok informs her. "We'll need a large team - several warbands - to fight him, but at least we won't be picked off by Flame Legion on the way."

"How many warbands are there total?" Tiffany asks. "The rest of them can distract the Flame Legion, if there are enough of them."

"There are," Vargok assures her. "Particularly the Blood Legion camp to the north - several warbands of them. I talked to Legionnaire Spinebreaker, and… 'convinced' her to let us on the 'strike' team."

"Convinced?" Forgal asks, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't she your superior?"

"Not when my warband's honor is on the line," Vargok almost snarls. "We made a promise, and as the last member of the Forge warband I _will_ see that promise honored!" He is nearly shouting by the end.

"We'll deal with… uh, does the shaman have a name?"

"Drakin Cinderspire." Vargok is calm again - clearly he has quite the mastery of his emotions. "We're going to be putting our best warriors on this team - the Scorch warband, us three, and some others."

Forgal nods. "Alright. We'll be there when you need us. We've done our part - strategizing, scouting, planning - now you can do yours and get this plan approved by your Legionnaire/Centurion group."

"Of course," Vargok nods. "Your concern now is preparing for the battle. Warmaster Tiffany, take Warmaster Forgal up to your gap and show him the lay of the land. I don't care what Spinebreaker says, I want Cinderspire dead, and I'm trusting you to get it done however you do it. Understand?"

"Yes, Legionnaire," the two Warmaster chorus, saluting.

Tiffany shows Forgal the gap - which he manages to squeeze through with a little difficulty - and the two survey the plateau. Cinderspire is practicing his Flame spells, it seems, to an admiring audience of Flame soldiers. The two Warmasters observe carefully, noting what he is capable of, before returning back to Invictus Castrum.

* * *

A few days later, the attack is executed. The Iron Legion blast through the gap Tiffany had found, and the Scorch, Spine and Gut warbands and the Vigil threesome - referred to as the Forge warband for convenience, much to Vargok's displeasure - go through while the other group of warbands invade from the normal spot.

They surprise Cinderspire, but he manages to summon a gigantic elemental that Tiffany and Forgal had seen earlier before the group gets to them. Vargok takes charge of the group - he apparently has attacked Cinderspire before, and knows his capabilities - and commands them to spread out and attack the smaller fire elementals to weaken the gigantic one surrounding Cinderspire.

Eventually, the elemental falls, and the three warbands converge on the shaman, who calls down fire on them. There are several elementalists in the ranks of the group, who quickly put out the fire on their allies, but Cinderspire keeps going, inflicting heavy wounds in their ranks.

Eventually, he flees away and summons the elemental again, which, this time, makes sparks and sets the warriors on fire. The elementalists are quite busy while the team battles the mini elementals, and one charr, flaming and about to die, flings herself with a shriek at Cinderspire, clawing at him and trying in any way to wound him before she dies. In that she succeeds - she distracts Cinderspire to the point of losing the elemental, but not before she is charred to a crisp (pun intended).

And so, of course, her warband jumps on Cinderspire and wound him grievously before he flings them back with Flame magic and pulls the elemental up again, stronger than ever and expanding. Tiffany's arrows burn up before they get anywhere, and, fearful for her bow, she finds a safe place for it and pulls out her twin axes, suddenly feeling Fiona's absence sharply.

Her hands are blistered from the intense heat, but that is no worse than anyone else. Rather soon, the elemental fades - spent more intense energy for less endurance, Tiffany supposes - and the three warbands jump on the now-tired Cinderspire, this time killing him. Vargok gets in the killing blow, which Tiffany decides is proper karma for Cinderspire and his elemental having killed Vargok's warband.

And then the Flame Legion attack - the distraction from the south had only worked for so long. The three warbands, exhausted, are quickly pushed into a corner, but they hold their own from the defensible position until backup arrives.

They all return to Invicus Castrum for a long rest. Vargok thanks Tiffany and Forgal profusely for aiding him in taking down Cinderspire.

"I was just doing my job," Forgal replies.

"We were happy to help," Tiffany tells him.

"Thank you anyway," Vargok says.

* * *

Spinebreaker, apparently, decides that the Vigil are useful after all - but only useful, and that they are still Vigil and therefore treated like scum - and she keeps them with her as the company of charr pushes northwest into Flame Legion territory. Tiffany and Forgal decide to stay, despite being treated like gladium, because they can be useful. They set up at a place that Spinebreaker decides to call Tuyere Command Post. She sends a messenger to the Black Citadel requesting reinforcements for pushing on, and sends scouts to look for Flame Legion.

As the unit that Tiffany and Forgal are with moves northward, she and Forgal get lots of chances to be subordinates in a military group that has one current objective, whereas in the Vigil it had been missions that are not linked together at all unless you knew the Vigil's goal.

Even with the distance between them because of Asvor and the Order of Whispers, Forgal finds himself making friends with Tiffany all over again, and he is irritated at himself for it. She's of the Order, she could be faking everything. But she's only an Initiate. If he is friends with her _before_ she learns to fake everything, they'll already be friends, he argues.

But he still goes through periods of aloofness, which always thaw out quite quickly. Tiffany notices the effort to stay away, and confronts him about it.

"Why do you keep trying to avoid me?" she asks.

"You're of the Order of Whispers," he replies bluntly. "I'm done with pretenders."

"But I'm not a pretender. I'm your friend, Forgal, I was your friend before I ever joined the Order. I know you think that makes me a pretender in your eyes, but that's not me. The Order better not send me to pretend to make friends with anyone, because once I am put in contact with somebody who isn't repulsive, I make friends quite quickly. I'm friends with Vargok already, and it's only been a few weeks. I'm not Asvor, Forgal."

Forgal huffs. "I know you aren't. But you're untrustworthy. You could be carrying my every secret to the Order."

Tiffany smiles tiredly. "Asvor already gave them all your secrets."

"And now _you_ know everything about me, too," Forgal retorts bitterly.

"I don't," Tiffany tells him gently.

"You do. You know about Asvor in the first place - if you weren't working with her, you must have looked her up in those files."

Tiffany sighs. "Yes, I know some things about you that I didn't before. I wish I didn't. I don't like learning things about people I know without them telling me. It feels like spying, and in a way it is. I limited my searches as much as I could… but I also needed to know what could be so important as it seemed to be, and Asvor was my only lead. I'm willing to pretend I don't know what I know until you tell me. That's what I've been doing."

This is a revelation to Forgal. But… "No. I want to know what you know."

Tiffany glances at Beorn, sadness creasing her face. "I'm sorry about Blackwing," she says softly. "It must be torture watching me so happy with Beorn all the time."

She's right, it does hurt. It had been worst when Beorn had returned after being presumed dead. But he had been able to sympathize with her greatly when she'd thought Beorn had died, and it had brought him closer to her, although she never knew it. He had been insanely envious of her when Beorn returned, but he'd quashed it beneath being happy for her. But Blackwing's link is gone, and the emptiness is painful.

Forgal nods, and he fights back expression as he remembers hunting with Blackwing… always accompanied by Asvor. Every memory is tainted, except those so far past he can barely recall them anymore.

Tiffany is by his side in a moment, her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I know what you're feeling."

"You don't," Forgal counters, shaking his head. "You never lost your link."

"Lost the link? The whole thing?" Tiffany gasps. "Just emptiness?"

Forgal nods silently.

"Oh."

Forgal is not sure if he would prefer still having the link, feeling nothing from Blackwing, rather than just having it taken out entirely. It would be a constant reminder of what he had lost, but the emptiness is so much worse. Emptiness where there should be emotion, emptiness where Blackwing should be gleefully squawking in the back of his head. But a link and nothing would be so much worse. Without the bond, he knows what was and could still have been, but at least he is just like every other person without a bond. With the link, the unnatural silence might have been too much. He might have gone insane, with nothing where there should be something. And _that_ 'should be' is not 'what used to be,' but true 'should be.' The link is designed to transport emotion and feeling, and if it is not doing so it is unnatural and _wrong_.

He had known the instant Blackwing died. The bond went silent, the link _vanished_. He hadn't even needed to go looking for Blackwing's body, he had all the confirmation in the world. If he had seen Blackwing, alive and well, he would not have believed it, however much proof was offered.

"What was Blackwing like?"

Forgal is glad she asked. Rangers with the bond have an infinite need to share things with somebody else, and are greatly receptive to receiving what others share, even if they aren't that interested at first.

"Blackwing… she loved to hunt. She'd stalk her prey for hours on end, and be absolutely happy doing it. She had a good sense of humor, and once explained that the reason she takes out the eyes first is so they won't see how ugly she claimed to be. Blackwing made friends with everybody - within ten minutes she'd be squawking in a friend's ear, telling them all my 'deep innermost secrets.'" Forgal chuckles slightly. "But she always held a place in her heart for me - I teased her once that… that she should go bond Asvor, for all she played with Asvor and played pranks on me with her. She instantly got possessive and declared she would never bond anyone else as long as she lived, even if I died right now and she lived for another hundred years."

"You're trying to live up to that, aren't you?"

Forgal nods. "It's not just that. There's no way anyone else could take her place. She knew my deepest secrets, my innermost fears… you know. Letting anyone else in that hidden place would just feel wrong. And I could be myself with her. All the constraints of society, the expectations placed on you… we're not normal, you and I. No one who has the bond ever is. And we can be free with our companions. It makes us seem perfect to the outside world, so _normal_ but for the one anomaly of being friends with an animal… but they never know our inside."

Tiffany nods in agreement. "Our inside is too weird for them. I know I'd change the subject every second sentence if I didn't have Beorn. I'm just so used to expressing my thoughts to somebody."

Forgal nods. Then, "wait, that's all?"

"That's all what?" Tiffany frowns.

"That's all the secrets you know about me?"

Tiffany nods. "Unless you don't know that I know that Asvor let your family die, and various other things about Asvor. It's mostly Asvor stuff. Oh, and you were at Port Stalwart when one of Zhaitan's dragons attacked, but that's hardly a 'deepest secret,' is it?"

Forgal blinks. "Really? That's all? How could you possibly get that little information?"

"Asvor recorded a transcript of the conversation where she told you she was an Order Agent. Other than that, I just looked at the string of edit dates to your file. I don't have access to Asvor's file - although maybe Vriré will let me have that access now that Asvor's been exposed as herself - so I had to look in yours to find out who Asvor was."

Forgal snorts a laugh. "And so Asvor's desire to be as thorough as possible gave you a workaround for knowing what's wrong with me without knowing anything else."

Tiffany nods.

"Well, I appreciate the effort. I'm sure if you were looking you could have known everything I ever told her, which was quite a lot."

"Oh, and your birthday," Tiffany says suddenly. "I found out your birthday."

Forgal looks at her and almost starts laughing. "That's not a secret that I care about keeping. It's so much of a not-secret that it's kept just because I never think about or mention it."

"I like being thorough," Tiffany grouches playfully. "And it was your birthday I told you I was part of the Order, and I thought how you must have been expecting me to say happy birthday or something."

Forgal blinks. "Do humans put a lot of…" he pauses, searching for the right word. "Importance on birthdays?"

Tiffany laughs. "You could say that," she grins. "We're obsessed with birthdays. We have this big celebration every year with all the people we know in honor of the event. It's kind of funny, now I think about it."

Forgal laughs, too, picturing such a party over a birthday.

* * *

The unit Tiffany and Forgal are with moves north, conquering Flame Legion camps - all 'surnamed' Castrum (as in the case of Invictus Castrum) - gaining support and approval from the higher-ups. Through it all, the three warbands (Spine, Gut and 'Forge') are always the strike team that sneaks in and does battle with the leaders of each Castrum while the rest of Spinebreaker's large squad (that grows with each assault, as she calls for more reinforcements). Although Spinebreaker does treat the so-called Forge warband as gladium and worse, she can't argue with their battle capability.

Forgal finally gives in and goes back to being friends with Tiffany. He doesn't say anything, but Tiffany understands the trust he is putting in her not to betray him, and promises herself to be worthy of that trust.

Tiffany learns how to work with large groups and function properly - Spinebreaker sneeringly calls it 'learning how to be part of a warband,' but Tiffany ignores the tone - as well as how act like a gladium so as not to offend anybody by 'acting higher than her station,' as Spinebreaker put it, which Tiffany ignores even more thoroughly.

Eventually Spinebreaker leads the small army - it _is_ a small army by this time - to Senecus Castrum, to the north. Once they capture that, they can use it as a base from which to launch an attack on the Citadel of Flame itself.

* * *

Spinebreaker is very aware that her superiors would like to take down the Flame Legion's leader - Gaheron Baelfire - so she sends word that they will be in a position to assault it soon.

Tiffany brightens when she hears this, at the same time as not believing her ears. They are at the Citadel of Flame already? The weeks spent under Spinebreaker's command have shaped her into a better soldier and subordinate than most of her time at the Vigil. Spinebreaker is not nice to her at all - she and Forgal are still under Vargok's command, though Vargok is a gladium now, making them even less than gladium - and Tiffany is treated harshly by most of the other charr.

But before the Citadel of Flame, they have to assault Senecus Castrum, which does not really have any special features beyond being very responsive to Flame magic. It is surrounded by Flame effigies and is packed absolutely full of Flame Legion, and a bazillion shamans.

If this is Senecus Castrum, the Citadel of Flame must be monstrous, Tiffany decides.

This time, Spinebreaker orders the artillery in to kill as many as possible before risking lives, but Flame magic causes the cannonballs to explode before they ever get close. Ash Legion sneak in to place mines, but they are caught and gutted alive on the walls of the Castrum as an example. A few preliminary probing parties are treated the same way - caught embarrassingly easily and murdered carelessly in plain sight.

Spinebreaker decides to wait for one of the higher-ups to get here, and settles to claiming the lands all around Senecus Castrum, scouting, and setting up defenses.

Tiffany can tell that Spinebreaker is itching for an excuse to send her and Forgal and maybe Vargok in alone on some suicide mission, but they are too useful even if she did have an excuse, for which Tiffany is glad. That does not stop Spinebreaker from being grouchy and giving them the worst jobs.

Although, Tiffany realizes after a while, she and Forgal are worse than gladium even without being under Vargok's command - they have never had warbands, never will, and don't care about having any.

She and Forgal are out scouting when the tribune arrives - from which Legion, Tiffany doesn't know - but when they return back to the camp - the Liberation Dell - she decides, from all the unfamiliar Blood Legion around, that the Tribune is Blood Legion.

She asks who it is of a nearby Ash scout, and she tells Tiffany that it's Rytlock Brimstone, of course.

'_Well, I knew that was a possibility,_' she reminds herself, '_but it could easily have been another Blood Tribune. Although, since he was with the Citadel of Flame assault in the game, it does make sense._'

Spinebreaker lines up his troops for Tribune Brimstone, organized by rank, with warbands together, as normal. Rytlock does a very thorough look-over of each charr, ensuring they are up to standard in this impromptu roll-call.

And then he sees the two Vigil soldiers at the back with the group of gladium. And he also recognizes Tiffany.

Rytlock turns to Spinebreaker. "I was not informed you had Vigil with you."

"Vargok of the now dead Forge warband recruited them, Tribune," Spinebreaker says, saluting. "I decided they were useful, and they showed no inclination to leave, so I kept them with my unit."

Rytlock snarls at Spinebreaker. "Why are they with the gladium, soldier? Do you not understand the Vigil? Do you not use them to your advantage as you were trained to do?"

Spinebreaker doesn't budge at the tongue-lashing Rytlock is giving him, but then, all charr seem to be immune to verbal abuse. Instead, she says, reluctantly, "they are some of my best soldiers, but they are worse than gladium. They're not even charr!"

"So you treat them like gladium," Rytlock snorts. "I happen to know Warmaster Tiffany - personally. Tiffany, come here! And bring your friend."

The two Warmasters step forward, Tiffany barely keeping from smirking at Spinebreaker's sudden, obvious terror. Rytlock has only met her twice, but that makes no difference - he does get attached to the people he fights alongside of, as his odd friendship with Logan proves. Particularly people who fight alongside him for a goal - killing Faolain - that he is willing to work with Logan on.

"Yes, Rytlock?" she says as she approaches him. Spinebreaker's terror only increases further when she realizes they are on first-name terms.

"How long have you been with this unit? I assume you know the chain of command?"

"Since Invictus Castrum and the Blasted Hearth," Tiffany replies promptly. "Yes, I understand the chain of command."

"Very well. At what rank would you say you and your friend have been treated?"

"We were informed at the start that we are under Vargok Hellforge's authority - he's technically a gladium, though he wasn't quite considered so then, I don't think."

"Worse than gladium, then," Rytlock snarls, turning to Spinebreaker. "For nearly five weeks. Explain, Spinebreaker!" As Spinebreaker stumbles to stammer out a response, Rytlock huffs. "You have no explanation. You are no longer a leader of this unit. Tiffany, who, in your estimation, would be a good Iron Legionnaire to take his place in collaborating with the other Legionnaires?"

Tiffany frowns. "I don't think I'm qualified to answer that - I don't know anybody much. Just Vargok. He was Legionnaire before his warband was killed, does he count?"

"Where is he?" Rytlock asks the assembled crowd, who are all breathless at the scene that is transpiring.

Vargok steps forward, and he salutes when he reaches Rytlock. "Vargok, gladium formerly of the Forge warband, reporting, Tribune Brimstone," Vargok says.

Rytlock runs an eye over him, then turns to Tiffany and Forgal. "Why do you recommend him?"

"He cared about his warband, from what I can tell," Tiffany replies. "Like I said, me and Forgal have been under him since we started helping this unit, and he's been nothing but kind to us."

"He can follow orders as well as take them, Tribune," Forgal informs him, "and he's a capable fighter. He's designed several weapons that have helped us fight the Flame Legion. Even Spinebreaker recognizes his prowess in his chosen fields."

Vargok looks like he wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut in front of the Tribune.

Forgal continues, "I don't know too many charr - much less specifically Iron Legionnaires, unless Spinebreaker counts - but Vargok has all the makings of a good leader, at least how we tell them in the Vigil."

Rytlock nods. "Good." he turns to Vargok. "Legionnaire - Vargok Hellforge, you said? - you are now in charge of the Iron delegation of this unit."

"I have no warband, Tribune," Vargok protests, shocked. "I can't possibly be a Legionnaire."

"Too bad!" Rytlock roars. "You're a Legionnaire now. Find yourself a warband, but you are in charge now. I want Senecus Castrum taken down, Legionnaire, however you can figure it out."

"Yes, Tribune!" Vargok says, saluting.

* * *

After the roll-call is over, Rytlock calls Tiffany and Forgal to his office-tent. Tiffany notes that Spinebreaker is there, and she looks, if possible, even more terrified than before.

Rytlock starts right away. "Do you know the penalty for treating somebody who isn't gladium as a gladium?"

"No," Tiffany answers curiously.

"Spinebreaker, would you like to tell your victims of your punishment?" Rytlock asks, feral glee in his eyes.

Spinebreaker remains sullenly silent.

Tiffany knows that Spinebreaker is a proud charr, and being forced to tell his 'victims' of her punishment is, now Tiffany thinks about it, a very shameful task.

"Execution," Rytlock says, when it becomes clear that Spinebreaker won't speak.

Tiffany's eyes widen. "Don't do that!" she protests. Spinebreaker looks at her in clear shock. That must have been a thunderclap from a clear sky. "I didn't really care - it's not like I'm a charr myself - it's not worthy of _death!_ It's not like he prevented me from fighting or anything that would compromise the mission!"

"I don't entirely agree with his actions," Forgal says, "but nobody should be outright _killed_ for simple prejudice. He's a good fighter, whatever he's done, and punishing him severely but not fatally gives him a chance to learn."

"It's not like he disobeyed an order or anything," Tiffany adds. "He's a good leader - he really is - he just showed some undue prejudice, is all! I'm not saying removing him from command is a bad idea, but don't _kill_ him!"

Rytlock looks from one Warmaster to the other, his face unreadable. "Well. As you were the only victims of this - and your arguments _are_ reasonable - I'll let him off. But his warband will have to find a new Legionnaire."

Tiffany relaxes. She doesn't know nearly enough about charr to expect to be able to dictate who commands what, but at least he isn't being executed. She glances at Forgal, who has a hard look in his eyes, then to Spinebreaker, who seems stunned but grateful. Tiffany is reminded of the Bible verse about being kind to your enemies and therefore heaping coals of fire/shame on their head by being nice, and decides that perhaps this applies here. No matter any demotions, avoiding death is worth anything. Well, almost anything, she corrects herself, as she so often does when thinking about death. How many people does she know that chose death over something else? Forgal did, in-game, and so did Trahearne and several others.

* * *

No announcement is made concerning Spinebreaker's punishment - the soldiers are left to believe that Spinebreaker was executed - and Vargok, along with the Blood Legionnaire and the Ash Legionnaire, talk to Rytlock about strategy and how to take Senecus Castrum.

Eventually they come out with a plan - they will use a dredge-like tunneling machine, and tunnel under Senecus Castrum. They'll come up in the middle and attack from there. Rytlock says he already has a charr in mind who knows enough about the dredge machines to instruct the Iron Legion on building one, and then operate the machine. Tiffany wonders who it is, but doesn't particularly care, and she soon forgets about it.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Anyway. Other notes on this: Yay we finally get Forgal talking to Tiffany and stuffy-stuff-_stuff!_ (I'm part skritt you know.) I love it! Also, somebody who hates Tiffany - Spinebreaker - which hasn't really happened before except for bad guys. (And Forgal, but he doesn't count.)

Also, while I was writing this, I forgot that Spinebreaker was female (her first name is Groma) and called her 'he' and 'him,' and then at the end I realized I'd got it wrong. I went back and fixed it, but if you find any confusing sentences let me know and I'll straighten it out.

Also, this is never going to make an effect on the story but it's funny so I'll share it: In Scrivener, I divide the chapter up into scenes, and then I give the scenes names so I can easily tell which one is about what. Well, I named that last one "That Plan Rocks!" and then in the scene summary I added (pun intended). I thought it was funny.

Conclusion: Awesome opening for _Book Four: Trinity Rising_. You know I'm going to use the book name a lot, because I'm just thrilled with it.

Also, an omake that was requested by ZenoLucario/Leon/Vargok's Player, based off of… uhh… I don't even know. He just linked me a video and I don't know what fandom/movie/etc it is. Anyway, here it is (and, uh, I doubt this would ever actually happen. Just saying.):

"Oohh, stuff stuff stuff!"

"What's that?" Vargok asks amusedly, watching the skritt dash around the dim cavern.

"That's a skritt," Leon laughs. "Go ahead, talk to it. It's sentient, don't worry, however much it looks like a rat."

"I resent that," Vargok sighs, but he walks over to the skritt. "Hello? What's your name?" he asks.

The skritt, terrified, squeaks incoherently.

"Well sweet Kalla on a smoking piece of convenional artillery!" Vargok yelps. "You sound like a majestic flaming eagle!"

"Ow ow ow!" the skritt yelps, holding its head.

"You're too smart for it," Leon notes, grinning.

Vargok whaks Leon on the head, but Leon ducks. "Talk to it in _simple_ terms, Vargok," Leon laughs.

"Alright, how's this," Vargok shoots back. He turns to the skritt. "Can you sing?"

The skritt just looks at him, so Vargok decides to lead by example (kind of). "Harmonize with me, maggot!" he grumbles, and starts vocalizing wordlessly, or, in simple terms, shrieking at the top of his lungs.

The skritt, terrified of the roaring from this gigantic creature, backs away, and quickly breaks into a run. Vargok makes to go after it, but Leon's laughter stops him. "You sounded absolutely ridiculous!" Leon manages. "And you probably scared the last of its brain cells to death!"

Vargok grumbles in a low growl. "What creature can't understand harmonizing?" he complains.


	2. Chapter 2: Friends Unite

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Tiffany meets Rox and 'gets to know her' a bit. Later, she has a think about things with Beorn and talks to Forgal, working out some of the confusing kinks in their friendship. The assault on Senecus Castrum is enacted and won, and Rytlock prepares to assault the Citadel of Flame. Before that happens, however, he sends Tiffany out to get Destiny's Edge. Tiffany is surprised to find Eir and Zojja getting along, and when Zojja decides to pull out the big guns - namely, Big Zojja - Tiffany is stunned.

* * *

Chapter two: Friends Unite

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

So if you were awake on Saturday night, you _may_ have noticed that the end of the last chapter changed slightly. That's because I realized that there are no dredge anywhere around anywhere up in northern Ascalon. So the plan had to modified slightly, but not _too_ much. So, if you read chapter 1 on Saturday night (or Sunday morning, same thing at that point, though barely) go check and make sure you got the right version. Edit: And also I forgot to take out the author's note pertaining to that change. /facepalm. Well, it's out now, and it's revealed in the opening of this chapter anyway. /sigh.

Thank you ZenoLucario for your reviews (and the awesome book name)!

I have added pictures to represent the stories! If you go to my profile you can see new pictures next to each story. Previously, they were all my profile picture, but I've updated it. The image for _Book One: Tyria's Real!_ is Tiffany. The image for _Book Two: Soldiers, Scholars and Spies_ is Fiona, and the image for _Book Three: Reforging the Edge_ is Vriré. I haven't decided on a picture for _Book Four: Trinity Rising_.

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

While the dredge machine is being built, there is not much for the soldiers to do. Tiffany talks to Vargok, who is grumpy at having to replace his warband. By the end of the conversation, Tiffany points out that he could always call the new warband something else, so it wouldn't be messing with the Forge warband, and Vargok says he'll think over the idea.

The troops take to training for the big battles to come, but all of the training equipment is designed for charr - although Tiffany does get in some practice at a shooting range, most of the stuff is unsuitable for Forgal and Tiffany.

So the two take to wandering the camp, and pretty soon Tiffany is drawn, out of curiosity, to the forge where the Iron Legion engineers - including Vargok, who seems quite interested - are working on the dredge machine. Tiffany remembers her idle curiosity over the identity of the charr Rytlock had picked to direct the work, and glances around.

There are a few other curious bystanders, but she can't pick out anyone in particular who seems to be instructing the workers.

She looks around the room again, careful not to interrupt the charr. She notices that one of the onlookers is Blood Legion, not Iron Legion, and once she notes that, and looks closer, she realizes it is Rox, and feels slightly stupid for not recognizing her.

She wonders what interest Rox could have in dredge machines, and glances at the not-nearly-done device that the Iron Legion are working on.

Rox, probably wondering what a human is doing in a charr camp, makes her way over. "Hello," she says, "my name is Rox. Are you the Warmaster that Rytlock talked to yesterday about Spinebreaker?"

"Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Rox." She doesn't ask for Rox's last name or warband, hoping that Rox will only think she doesn't know much about charr yet. She _is_ confident that Rox won't ask why. "What are you doing here? I've never heard of a Blood soldier interested in Iron work before."

"I have some experience mining," Rox explains. "We dealt with the dredge all the time, and stole their machines sometimes. Everyone stuck me with the task of maintaining it, so I know more about the tunnelers than most, but not enough to build it. I'm just telling the Iron engineers what I know, and leave them the job of making sense of it. They're almost as bad as asura."

Tiffany smiles. "I know what you mean. It's astounding, though. I didn't think anyone _could_ build something with such limited knowledge."

Rox nods. "They are certainly good at what they do."

After a few minutes of silence as they watch the engineers, Rox asks, "so, how do you know Rytlock?"

"I was on a Vigil mission - technically just an information one - to tell him that the dredge were allying with the Flame Legion. I happened to be introduced to him by a friend of his, Caithe, so he took a liking to me. Then I helped him and his friends kill a mutual enemy. I haven't seen him since, but he makes friends fast."

"That he does," Rox nods. "You were helping Destiny's Edge?"

Tiffany nods. "Do you know much about them?"

"They fought several dragon champions," Rox shrugs. "Tried to fight Kralkatorrik, failed, haven't spoken since. I'm honestly surprised Rytlock would even talk to a human since then."

"Really?" Tiffany frowns. "Huh. He worked with Logan rather well when I was helping them, although we kind of had to convince him."

Rox laughs. "Nobody 'convinces' Rytlock. He had to have already thought of the argument you were using."

Tiffany tilts her head. "You know, I think you might be right. Actually, that might be true for everybody, at least subconsciously."

Rox nods. "Yeah, that makes sense. So what do you do in the Vigil?"

"Well, it's not all fighting, as some of the misinformed might think," Tiffany says. "My first mission was hunting down Renegades and stopping them from messing up the Ebonhawke Treaty. Me and Forgal messed up a plan to assassinate the Krytan representative."

"That was you?" Rox asks. "I heard about that. The Legions have been cracking down on Renegades more harshly since then."

"Really? That's neat," Tiffany smiles. Rox is happy and cheerful, and is just how Tiffany remembers her. All of the other people she has met have something bothering them - Destiny's Edge have their problems, Braham is, well, Braham, and she only met Taimi and Kasmeer once. Rox is just… normal, somehow. It's odd, but Rox is just cool that way. Pun intended - Rox can just chill out anytime. It's refreshing. "Of course, it isn't just Renegades - Separatists almost killed Beorn, my companion…" '_oops, wrong way to go. Rox is a ranger, too, but I don't see Frostbite. Ri… right, Frostbite was her second companion, her other one died in the cave-in that killed her warband._' "…and Queen Jennah, but I got mad and destroyed them all."

"I know exactly what you mean," Rox says, nodding. She glances at Beorn. "This is your companion?"

'_So, Rox does want to talk about it. Okay._' "Yes. Beorn is very smart, and very protective. But only when he needs to be, which is neat. He doesn't go worrying about me when I'm in danger the way Petra - my adoptive mother - does."

Rox nods. "He knows what you're thinking, and half the time he's in danger with you. He knows more than anyone else exactly how powerful you are."

Tiffany nods in agreement. "He almost got corrupted by Icebrood once, but I fought them off in time and he managed to heal it before it got too far. My sister knew someone who was corrupted - she only knew Disa for a day, but it was almost her fault Disa was corrupted. I think she maybe secretly blames herself."

Rox sighs. "Well, it's over now. Can't change what's happened."

"Right."

Then, Rox is called away by one of the Iron engineers, and Tiffany slips out of the workshop and back to the barracks-like tent that is usually full of unruly charr, but for now is quiet.

She wishes that Fiona were here. Fiona is almost like a second companion - someone she can discuss things with. It's hard having a conversation with Beorn since he can't talk beyond the emotions in the bond, and Fiona supplies that gap most of the time. She wonders how the talking through the bond works - as far as she can tell, only feelings and emotions can pass through, and not a shade more. She decides that she will ask Forgal about it. He's like a hundred years old, and he probably met his companion really young, as she did.

But she talks to Beorn. She hasn't had much of a chance the last few weeks, and so she takes the opportunity to reflect on things. Her mind is on Forgal, so she begins talking about him and the situation their friendship is at right now. She pillows her head on Beorn's side and talks into his ear with a combination of words and emotions from the bond. Anyone listening in would hear a passive voice, talking about concerns and troubles but leaving gaps of silence, and not expounding much.

She sends Beorn a confused feeling as she begins talking. "Forgal has problems with the Order." Uncertainty. "It feels like I pushed him a little, nudged him in the direction of friendship, just by having that one conversation with him." A bit of frustration. "I wanted to let him think about it. That's why I left it up to him whether he even came along or not."

Beorn sends her a feeling of completion, of doneness. '_Maybe he did think about it._'

"But… he was still confused. He still kept being friendly and cold to me by turns, and only stopped once I talked to him. He doesn't have his companion to keep him on track anymore. If I'm uncertain about my own motives, how can he trust me?"

Beorn sends sharp disapproval, and a sense of starting over. He means '_don't think like that. Say it again, in different words this time?_'

Tiffany sends the Tiffany-feeling. "…don't know what to think about my own reasons," Tiffany tells her companion. "How can…" the Forgal-feeling "… trust that?"

Beorn returns the uncertainty.

Tiffany sends Tiffany-feeling, then uncertainty and "…my own motives." '_I am uncertain about my own motives._' Curiosity tinged with worry, then "subconscious," a sense of betrayal, and herself again. '_What if my subsconscious is tricking me?_'

Beorn returns the betrayal feeling, mixed with the emotion for 'Tiffany,' and denial. '_Betrayal is not in your nature._'

"Subconscious," Tiffany retorts.

More denial.

Tiffany sighs.

The uncertainty and betrayal - the same uncertainty about her motives - from Beorn, and then denial.

"I'm not uncertain about my motives?" Tiffany guesses, not sure of Beorn's meaning.

The uncertainty followed by denial.

Tiffany sighs. "I'm not uncertain about my motives?"

Beorn huffs. He sends the feeling of instinct - his urge to hunt fish in a stream - followed by a sense of wrongness.

"My motives… are wrong?"

Beorn grumbles and sends denial.

"My motives are bad?" There is frustration alongside the words.

He sends denial and then the instinct-feeling.

"Not motives?" Tiffany guesses.

Beorn sends happiness, then sends the combination again. Denial, instinct, uncertainty, more denial.

"It's not my motives that I'm uncertain about?"

Beorn shakes his head. Denial, instinct, then frustration and happiness rolled together.

"It's not my motives that are the problem."

Beorn returns happiness. '_Yes!_' Then he resumes with uncertainty - normal uncertainty - and then regret.

Tiffany frowns at the odd combination. "That regret is 'sorry,' and the uncertainty - oh! It was an accident?"

Beorn nods, but grumpily. He sends the problem-feeling - frustration and happiness together - and then denial. '_It's not a problem._' Then the previous combination, with denial added in. '_It was not an accident._' Then carelessness - not that Beorn doesn't care, but rather '_it doesn't matter,_' followed by_ 'It's not a problem._' Then worry and exasperation and an odd sense of loss that isn't sad, and consolation. '_Stop worrying about it, it's fine. It's alright._'

Tiffany returns skepticism, and Beorn snaps back with exasperation and that odd sense of loss. '_Yes, it's _fine_! Now stop worrying about it._' Then, '_It's not a problem._' A hesitant - maybe conditional - feeling, and then normal uncertainty and regret. '_If it is a problem, it was still an accident._' Carelessness. '_It doesn't matter._'

Tiffany finally nods in agreement. "But I still feel as if… there's something _off_ about the whole thing."

Beorn returns amusement, then a halting, confused jumble of emotions.

"It's a word that doesn't have a feeling attached to it," Tiffany guesses. Beorn nods. "A word that isn't a connecting word like 'the' or 'a.' So it means something, but it doesn't have a feeling."

Sarcastic amusement is rolling off of the bear in waves.

"So… it…." Tiffany frowns. Beorn sends continuation. "Keep talking? Talking? That's it? Talking!" Tiffany laughs, both through the bond and out loud. "Alright, so… talking. Why did you send me talking?"

'_Talk to Forgal._'

"Oh! Right, I'm stupid."

Denial. '_Are not!_'

"Am too!"

'_Are not!_'

Tiffany laughs, sending _Tiffany_ and _Beorn_ rolled together and humor. '_We're hilarious._'

"Seems like you two are having a good time," says Forgal. "Your bond seems healthy."

"Oh, I had a question to ask you," Tiffany says suddenly. "My instructor at the Academy said that once the bond progressed enough, you could send words to your companion. How does that work? Mine doesn't do anything more than emotions and feelings."

"You communicate _with_ the emotions and feelings," Forgal explains. "When Blackwing would send me Asvor and me and Blackwing rolled together, she meant 'let's go hunting,' instead of 'us three together' like you might expect. You two will get to know each other and which feelings mean what, and Tiffany, your brain will automatically convert the feeling combinations into words before long."

"I'm kind of already doing that," Tiffany says. "Piecing together sentences based on what he sends me."

"It will just get more natural and instinctive as you go along," Forgal nods. "But you can't force it. Already you are talking in a mixture of feelings and words, and you can understand Beorn really well. How often do you need to stop and try to figure out what he is saying?"

"Once or twice this last conversation," Tiffany says, "and mostly over words that we don't have feelings attached to yet. Like _motives_. We learned that one, it's Beorn's instinct for fishing."

Forgal laughs. "It's the most secure form of communication, even if somebody else started listening in on your bond. No, that isn't possible," he assures her. "You grow with your companion, both in personality from a young age and through the bond's communication."

"That… is awesome," Tiffany decides. "Communication precision based on how well we know each other. I love it."

"The very nature of the bond's limitations make for a deeper bond," Forgal agrees. "Now, I am going to take Beorn's side and say that you are not stupid. That's all I heard."

Tiffany laughs. "We're hilarious." Then Beorn sends her talking again - which had evolved slightly into continuation with no other emotion, to indicate that talking is emotionless - and she rolls her eyes, both at Beorn's hilarious new feeling for 'talking' and at his persistence. "Beorn wants me to talk to you," she says. "We need to know exactly what's going on with our friendship right now."

Forgal finds a seat, and thinks for a moment.

"I can tell you've decided to trust me," Tiffany says, "despite my connection with the Order. I want to be worthy of that trust - it's more than you ever put in me before you knew. I know there's really nothing to talk about, but I just feel like there is something to talk about."

Forgal nods. "I know what you mean. It will probably take me some time to get used to the idea of you being in the Order, you know."

"Of course. I don't expect you to just push it all away and forget about it," Tiffany agrees.

"Yes, but…" Forgal frowns. "It feels uncomplete. Like I can trust you, but there's something holding me back. Something _wrong_. If I had to guess, I'd say it was Asvor, but we dealt with that problem."

Beorn sends her Asvor and absence, and Tiffany's eyes widen. "It _is_ Asvor, though. Remember when we met you in Applenook Hamlet? The Order had just found out that Asvor is evil, and Vriré had set some tracking technomagical thing on her. The Order maneuvered Asvor to meet us all at Applenook - because Asvor was looking for me - and we could corner and capture her there. It was also designed to show you that I hate Asvor, but then she didn't show up. Vriré's tracker stopped working, and all we could do was pinpoint when and where it happened - middle of Lion's Arch, just before she should have arrived in Applenook. Unless something's happened since I saw Vriré last, she hasn't shown up since."

Forgal frowns. "I'd been wondering why she didn't show up soon. I beat her at our last fight - nearly killed her - and she normally would come back to prove she's better than me. She'd find me no matter where I was, no matter the circumstances it would put me in. I doubt she'd balk at a company of charr."

Tiffany sighs. "I hope she doesn't cause trouble."

"She's already causing trouble," Forgal points out. "She's messing with our friendship. It's a subconscious thing - it's not like we can say 'we're friends, Asvor, Spirits take you if we care what you think!'"

Tiffany frowns. "Right. So what do we do about it?" Beorn sends Tiffany and Forgal and continuation. "Beorn wants us to keep being friends." Denial and Asvor. "Despite anything about Asvor." Frustration and then completion. "It'll work itself out?"

Beorn nods, and Tiffany smiles.

"What's your feeling for 'problem?'" Forgal asks. "It's a tricky one, and from what I've heard, it's one that's almost always different. Blackwing used smug satisfaction."

"Me and Beorn use frustration. How does smug satisfaction work? That sounds like it would only make sense if you solved the problem."

"No, she loved puzzles and problems, and was always trying to figure them out. She always had fun doing the problem - it wasn't the satisfaction of finishing it that pleased her - and so, as a sort of joke, I made sure she didn't find any puzzles. Whenever she found one, she was always smug about it. Didn't matter what the puzzle was - it could be an intellectual challenge or a physical one like a pile of interlinking rings to separate - she'd love it.

Tiffany laughs. "That's awesome. I like intellectual problems - figuring out why certain words mean what they mean, for example, or using logic to deduce how something works when I only have limited information. It's fun figuring them out, and then after they're figured out I don't know what to do with the time I used to spend figuring it out. But those problems are different from frustration-problems - those are important and vital, whereas the other ones are maybe not so much, or maybe not so urgent. The intellectual ones I suppose… well, we haven't come up with a feeling for it yet. We just both jump in on trying to figure it out. It's kind of like words that sound the same but mean different things - you have to use context. Or maybe it's the undertones. I'll have to think about that."

"You are a deep thinker, Tiffany," Forgal laughs.

* * *

Over the next few days, Tiffany talks to Rox a few more times, and Rox gets to know Tiffany a bit. Tiffany learns a few things about Rox that she didn't know before, like that Rox has a deeper inside that her cheerful exterior would indicate. She holds her past close to her chest and doesn't discuss it, though she does slip a bit and mention a 'Skewer,' which, once she hears the name, she recalls as being Rox's first companion's name.

'_Different people react differently on their companion's death, I suppose,_' Tiffany observes. Beorn agrees.

Within a few days, the tunneling machine is done, and Rox takes control of the machine, Rytlock and the charr army behind her. She plows deep underground with it, measuring the distance out and how far into the interior of Senecus Castrum she's gone so far.

Rytlock and the rest of the small army file into the tunnel behind Rox, ready to attack when they get back to the surface. After a few hours, Rox turns to Rytlock. "We're just below the surface now," she reports, "in the middle of the fortress. I'm going to set the machine to run automatically so nobody needs to be distracted with running it when the attack happens."

Rytlock nods. "Smart cub. Go ahead."

Rox turns to the machine, and, after a moment, she steps aside and it starts forward again, breaking above the ground and continuing forward while Rytlock and the others charge out the hole. The three warbands that had led the charge on all of the previous encounters - the Spine, Gut and Forge warbands, plus Rytlock - form a ring around the hole as the other charr pour out, widening the ring as charr step into line.

The Flame Legion are shocked into inaction at first as this circle of their enemies blossoms out in the middle of their fortress, and by the time they attack there are already significant numbers out of the hole, and more coming.

The Flame Legion crash on the perimeter of the ring, attacking, but they are held off. Eventually, at a command from Rytlock, the ring breaks and the charr spread out. Until then, the Flame Legion had been fighting only as many charr as could fit in the circumference of the ring, but now they have to fight all of them.

And more charr are pouring through the hole. Rytlock had ordered all soldiers on the battlefield today. The Iron Legion come last, with the arillery, and set up in the clear space that the charr have cleared.

Rytlock calls the three warbands of the strike team together and leads them to where the charr commanding the Flame forces from Senecus Castrum waits. They engage in fierce battle with the Flame leader, but soon take him down. Then they spread throughout the fortress, killing any Flame Legion they see and liberating the females, sending them down the tunnel to wait until the battle is done.

Without their commander, the Flame Legion at Senecus Castrum fall apart, but they are still fighting, and it takes most of the day and far into the night to get all of them. But then the attackers have Senecus Castrum.

* * *

And then Rytlock turns his attention to the Citadel of Flame. He leads the charr to its gates - in the cleft of a mountain, easily defensible, but not with the gate closed - and calls on Gaheron Baelfire to come out and face them.

When no reply comes, Rytlock orders his subordinates to begin a siege, led by the Blood Legionnaire.

At first, Tiffany and Forgal, as part of the Iron contingent, are left out of it, though Tiffany privately expects that to change soon, since Rytlock is in charge. When Rytlock calls her to his office-tent, she is ready to be reassigned to the Blood unit, but that is not what happens - instead, her curiosity over why Forgal was not called to the meeting is satisfied.

"Warmaster Tiffany reporting, sir!" Tiffany says, saluting.

"At ease, Warmaster," Rytlock says. "I understand you are responsible for the current state of Destiny's Edge?"

Tiffany nods. "Yes, sir."

"Why are you so concerned about it?" Rytlock asks.

"The dragons are a threat, and when I saw a chance to bring their biggest adversaries back together, I took it."

"Good. That took guts," Rytlock notes, and Tiffany finds herself smiling at the compliment.

'_I have really spent too much time under charr command,_' Tiffany tells herself. '_I'm getting weirder than ever._'

"As to the battle ahead of us," Rytlock says, changing the subject… or not. "We don't have the soldiers we need to take the Citadel, and just more of them won't help. What we need is an elite warband, a strike force to take down Baelfire while the rest of the soldiers here fight Baelfire's army."

Tiffany guesses Rytlock's intent. "You want me to go find the rest of Destiny's Edge - or even just a few of them - and bring them here to help?"

Rytlock nods. "I'll leave the method up to you - you seem to be good at that."

"Thank you, sir. When do I leave?"

"As soon as possible."

Tiffany nods, thoughts racing through her mind. She _would_ ask if she could get Fiona, as well, but she knows Fiona is busy on her Priory mission. She hopes this will help Eir and Zojja reconcile; she is already sure that Rytlock wouldn't be asking unless he planned to talk to Logan. She would also ask if Forgal could go with her, except he doesn't know any of Destiny's Edge and Rytlock probably needs him.

She leaves the room and heads to the makeshift barracks. Forgal is there with some of the other Iron soldiers, and Tiffany quickly tells him what's going on as she prepares to leave.

Forgal nods. "Come back soon - and stop to see General Almorra on your way. She might have additional information for us."

"Of course," Tiffany nods. "Rytlock wants me to go and be back as soon as possible. I'll probably be able to find them all quickly, but who knows. Caithe might be adventuring or something." She stops before she adds something that might hint at odd knowledge. Caithe had never not been there during story missions unless it was on purpose, and she'd never been missing since they came to Tyria, but she gets the feeling Caithe is a 'go off by herself and do adventures' type of person.

* * *

As she heads out of the camp and Senecus Castrum, she feels suddenly lonely, despite Beorn's presence in the back of her head due to the bond. As she travels south, she realizes it is Fiona she is missing. She's hardly ever made a journey somewhere without Fiona with her, and she's been without Fiona for a bit more than six weeks. Six weeks! Tiffany shakes her head. What is up with this?

Then she realizes that Fiona doesn't even have a companion to keep her company, and is probably much more lonely than she is. Tiffany frowns. Somebody not having a companion just feels _wrong_ \- she'd never thought about it before, but it does. Tiffany has Beorn, but who does Fiona have? Even worse, who do people like Forgal and Rox have, having lost their companions and known the joy of having one?

Beorn sends her agreement and disbelief. He can't imagine it.

On the several-day journey back to the Black Citadel, she is free to think about many of the things troubling her. Asvor, still missing - Tiffany is a target ripe for the picking on her own, if Asvor wants to try and kill her - and yet still messing with her and Forgal. She wonders if, even after Asvor is dead, she will continue to have a lasting impact on Forgal's life - and, by extension, hers and Fiona's, as well.

She worries about her friendship with Forgal in the long-term - will he learn to ignore her membership in the Order, or will he eventually be overloaded and stop being friends again? - and if she should try to include him on some things to make it easier for him to adapt and cope with, like introducing him to Vriré or bringing him along on a mission occasionally.

She does want all her friends to know each other - Forgal should meet Destiny's Edge perhaps a couple times, and he already knows a few of them slightly through her - and wonders if she should start introducing them to each other. The races don't need to come together _just_ through the common goal of fighting Elder Dragons.

She wonders when the events of Claw Island will take place - she is fairly certain that the Citadel of Flame dungeon didn't happen until after Claw Island and the Pact and etcetera, but she isn't certain. It could have happened before - and it seems to be happening first now, whatever happened in the original.

She wonders, for the first time in _ages_, about her family back on earth. Tangwen, Phillipe, Joslyn, Falcon, Harrison, Nate, and Eden, Vinn and Laura, who can't be properly represented by an avatar in-game. She hasn't seen _them_ since she came to Tyria - how long? Nearly half a year?

Half a year? Has it really been so long - and yet so short - a time since she came here? She wonders how much she has changed from the original storyline - she doesn't remember very well the details. It's been six months since she last was on the wiki or the game, after all - most of her information about Tyria now comes from her Tyrian-side memories, not her earth-side research.

Many of her old habits and associations from earth are gone - she no longer tries to tell the time in hours, but rather what position the sun is at. She no longer expects there to be a light switch by the door, and lights a lamp instead. Her legs are strong and well adapted to walking or even running long distances, as oppose to hopping in the car and driving.

She appreciates injury - she can get severely harmed in a way that isn't easily healed, unlike the way it was in the game. She has a healthy fear or Risen now - she can't just hit them enough times and they die, she has to chop them to pieces and set them on fire to ensure they don't rise again. She knows that her actions _everywhere_ have consequences, not just those inside a story mission, and that killing anything - for good, at least - has an impact. And she lives with a constant knowledge that one wrong move could see her dead - by dragon minions or charr that don't like the treaty or anything, really. Wild animals are in abundance in Tyria.

And she could easily get lost. Tyria is a large, odd place - she hadn't realized how large or odd until she came to this world and realized how tall norn really are, or how terrifying charr can be in real life, or how unnerving her first real sight of a sylvari was, or her instinct to talk to an asura as if to a child. Getting lost is a distinct possibility, and she is acutely aware of the walking distance between waypoints. In the game, she'd always run at a steady, unsustainable speed at all times, despite logic dictating that _nobody_ can run that fast for that long. In Tyria, she has to pace herself - or just develop patience and/or the endurance and stamina to do that, which is just absurd.

She is a lot older than she had been when she came to Tyria, despite it only having been six months. Living in near-constant danger will do that - she's only twenty-four, but she feels like a war veteran. And she is, to some extent. Fighting dragon minions, fighting centaurs, nearly getting killed by Forgal, contemplating death as something that could happen any time - yes. She certainly is a lot older than she had been.

* * *

She arrives at the Black Citadel feeling more free than she had before - she had thought over a lot of things that had been troubling her, and worked through several of them - although some, like the steady absence of the Holy Spirit - are still unnerving, and she still is uncertain what death will hold for her when it comes. But she has renewed her commitment to trust that He will come for her eventually.

She heads through the asura gate and arrives in Lion's Arch. She decides to find Logan first, guessing rightly that he would be in his office and possibly with a lot of free time on his hands since the centaur war has been won.

"Tiffany!" he says in greeting. "I'm glad to see you. It's been quite a while."

Tiffany nods. "It has been. The only reason I'm back now is that Rytlock is calling for aid from his old friends." She hides a smile at the eloquent way of delivering that message. 'Rytlock is calling for aid from his old friends.'

"He is?" Logan asks, cheer evident in his voice. "What for?"

"He and a little army of charr are sitting on the doorstep of the Citadel of Flame, ready to take on the Flame Legion's Imperator," Tiffany informs him. "He's reasoned that there are bound to be way too many Flame fantics in the Citadel to just attack, and he wants Destiny's Edge to strike team it in there and kill Baelfire early on."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Logan queries, heading toward the door. "I'll speak to the Queen - it's high time the Seraph returned to normal, anyway. I'll meet you in Lion's Arch, could you find Eir? I've learned that you haven't the slightest idea where to look for Zojja, and Caithe's always a mystery."

"What do you mean, you've learned we don't know where to find Zojja?" Tiffany wonders.

"Your sister came to me for help finding her," Logan explains.

"Oh, right," Tiffany nods. "See you in Lion's Arch."

* * *

Tiffany waypoints to the asura gate and travels to Hoelbrak, where she realizes that she does not, actually, know where Eir lives, just that she is probably at home carving something, or maybe beating up some Icebrood. But she finds out easily by asking a norn by the gate - Eir is rather famous - and heads in the direction of Stonewright's Steading - an apt name, she decides, given that Eir likes carving statues.

She finds a large, wooden gate standing open - just as the directions she had been given indicated - and wonders how to proceed. She doubts that Eir will hear it if she knocks - the pathway beyond the gate slopes up for a good distance - and it is always rude to just walk in to somebody's house.

Although, she does recall most people in the beginning of _Edge of Destiny_ doing just that, and Tiffany realizes that nobody considers this gate to be Eir's front door. This, however, does not make walking in without invitation any easier.

The question is solved for her when Garm comes down the path, looks at her for a moment, and nods up the path with a slightly amused glint in his eye.

Tiffany follows the large wolf - nearly as big as herself - up the path. Garm inviting her in is equivalent to Eir inviting her in. Very few people who didn't have the companion bond would make that equation, but Tiffany understands. Eir already knows that she has a visitor through the bond, anyway, and perhaps who it is, if she and Garm have developed a feeling that means 'Tiffany' yet. Beorn sends her humor and the feeling that he is rolling his eyes. '_Of course they have._'

Garm leads her in to the large, one-room building that is Stonewright's Steading. He goes and sits by Eir, who is talking to - Tiffany blinks in surprise - Zojja.

"Tiffany, good to see you," Eir says in greeting. "I believe you already know Zojja?"

Tiffany nods. "Yes, I have. Good to see both of you - in fact, I was about to come find you, Zojja, after speaking to Eir."

"What about?" Zojja queries. "Can't be anything too secret," she adds, indicating that it's alright to tell her in front of Eir.

Tiffany blinks at the unexpected trust Zojja is putting in Eir, before answering. "Rytlock sent me. He wants the help of Destiny's Edge to take down the Flame Imperator." Tiffany hesitates a moment, before adding, "I… didn't expect to see you together."

The asura and the norn glance at each other. "We've sorted out our differences," Eir says simply. "And now Rytlock needs us. What about Logan and Caithe?"

Tiffany smiles. "That's great! I told Logan I'd meet him in Lion's Arch after telling you, and I guess we'll find Caithe afterwards. That, or she'll be inexplicably drawn to the place where Destiny's Edge is all together," Tiffany adds humorously.

"She probably will," Zojja sighs. "Let's go, then."

The five - Tiffany, Eir, Zojja, Garm and Beorn - leave the steading and head to the asura gate.

* * *

In Lion's Arch, Logan is already there, and he blinks when he sees Zojja as well as Eir, but greets them both enthusiastically. The knowledge that Rytlock is calling for him this time must have really cheered him up.

After a moment for greetings, Caithe steps out of the gate to the Grove.

Tiffany and Zojja dart wide-eyed glances at each other, not noticing the slightly surprised look on Caithe's face at seeing most of her guildmates gathered together here.

Caithe glances at Eir questioningly for Tiffany and Zojja's odd looks.

Eir shrugs. "They predicted that you would be inexplicably drawn to any place where most of us were gathered. I think it was a joke and they are surprised to find that they were right. Of course, knowing Zojja and Tiffany, it might not have been a joke."

Caithe nods. "I see. Why _are_ we all here?"

"Rytlock wants you," Tiffany informs her. "He wants to kill a Flame Legion Imperator at the Citadel of Flame, and his oh-so-tactical mind decided Destiny's Edge is the best fit for the job. You know how hard it is to find… three different ways of saying that to five different people? And they _all_ contained the phrase 'Rytlock wants you.'"

"You told me that - " Logan starts, but Zojja interrupts.

"Don't encourage her, Logan," the asura sighs, and Tiffany laughs.

"Well, lets go then," Caithe shrugs. "The Citadel of Flame, you said?"

"That's in northern Ascalon," Logan informs them. "Let's go!"

"I'll catch up to you," Tiffany says. "I have to check in with General Almorra."

"We can wait," Zojja says. "I want to get Big Zojja out of the closet anyway."

"Perfect," Eir nods. "Load the cannons with water - we're fighting Flame Legion."

Zojja grins ferociously. "Rytlock asked for Destiny's Edge - he'll get Destiny's Edge."

"We'll meet you on the Black Citadel side of the gate," Logan tells Tiffany, and she nods.

* * *

Tiffany longs to go with Zojja and see the gigantic golem, but as she hurries to the Vigil Keep, she reminds herself that she'll see Big Zojja anyway, just not as immediately.

"At ease, Warmaster," General Almorra tells Tiffany. "What brings you here? And where is Forgal?"

"I was sent by Tribune Brimstone to collect a few friends," Tiffany replies. "Forgal advised me to check in here and see if there was anything we should know."

The General nods. "Wise decision. I have been receiving reports from the Black Citadel of the progress of the unit of one Spinebreaker, and that Tribune Brimstone was being sent out to oversee the culmination of their efforts. Am I right in assuming that is the unit you were with?"

"Yes, General," Tiffany replies, deciding not to inform her of Spinebreaker's attitude toward the Vigil and their leader. "We're about to assault the Citadel of Flame."

"Then I must say you have done a very good job," the charr replies. "I want you and Forgal to return home after you are done with that nest of fiery zealots. You two are too excellent to keep away for so long."

"What about Crusader Vargok?"

"He is a Legion liaison," the General explains, "and he is allowed some autonomy in choosing between the Vigil and Iron Legion, so long as both sides are aware of his status."

"I see," Tiffany nods. "Do you have anything else for me, General?"

"No, Warmaster. You are dismissed."

Tiffany nods and leaves the Keep.

* * *

She finds her friends in the Black Citadel just beyond the asura gate, and stops to stare at Big Zojja in awe. The golem is really huge - twice as tall as Eir, which is really an achievement. _Snaff_ built this?

But her attention is quickly taken by the likeness of Zojja's head on top. Five times larger than life, and the head is perfectly proportional to the rest of the golem. That in and of itself is astounding, but the _detail_ and precision in the statue!

Then Big Zojja's head, which before had been looking at Caithe, turns to see Tiffany, making the human jump. The golem is deathly still when not actively moving, and it is a shock to remember that Zojja is inside, piloting.

"You've never seen Big Zojja before," Logan realizes.

"Uh… it's a very apt name," Tiffany says, at a loss for anything else to say.

Logan laughs. "If Rytlock were here, he'd ask why he never thought of that particular comment before, and then curse you for saying it and making it invalid forevermore."

Tiffany blinks. She can kind of visualize Rytlock doing that - maybe she just doesn't know the charr as well as Logan does. Beorn sends her the rolling-his-eyes feeling again. "It's certainly a very good likeness," she observes. "You carved this, Eir?" she asks the norn.

Big Zojja nods, indicative of Little Zojja doing the same inside. "She's good at it," Zojja notes, her voice warped slightly by the sound transmitter inside the cockpit - probably wired to emanate from Big Zojja's mouth, if Snaff was being humorous/realistic, or else Snaff was being practical and put the speaker closer down to people-level. Either one is very Snaff-like, from Tiffany's limited knowledge of Snaff.

"Thank you," Eir nods.

"We should get going," Caithe reminds them.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I absolutely LOVED this chapter. The Destiny's Edge interaction is so like how it happens in _Edge of Destiny_ I just can't help but be amazed at myself.


	3. Chapter 3: Time is Marching On

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Destiny's Edge and Tiffany talk about how Fiona was missing her. When they get to Senecus Castrum, Rytlock greets them and tells them his plan of attack, factoring in Big Zojja. Tiffany pilots the golem into battle to great effect. Then, they all go home. Tiffany and Forgal report to General Almorra and then go to the Tassof Tavern and talk to Fiona and Deborah. Later, Tiffany reports to the Chantry of Secrets and talks to Vriré.

* * *

Chapter three: Time is Marching On

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

So, I don't have any author's notes this time. Normally, that would mean the deletion of the whole A/N section, but I would have had to make a comment about how weird that looks, so I'm doing it now. (And the purpose is defeated, given that, since I'm making a note, there are author's notes. But I decided that this is the less-weird end of the circular paradox.) So anyway; imagine a chapter without any author's notes. Weird, huh? I like talking to my readers.

Also (oh, look, I did have author's notes after all) I have been looking through the beginning of my story (I'm in the process of posting to Archive of Our Own, piece by piece as I find time between actually writing) and 'admiring' how bad of a writer I was back then. Seriously!

But I'm not gonna fix it. The _Tassof Series_ is now a record of my writing skills. I mean, can you imagine that I barely mentioned Beorn _ever_ prior to the whole Separatist thing? But if I went back and fixed it… well… it would kind of be weird. And probably some extra things would happen, or he might change the plot a bit, and etc. I _do_ fix my tense, though. In the beginning I kept ping-ponging from present tense to past tense, and that's just bad writing resulting from changing a habit. So I fix that, but nothing else. (Kinda can't, like I said with Beorn.) Also, I used to copy+paste dialogue from the wiki - for example, the whole 'level 30 quest' thing. I wanted to fix that, but I decided not to. Who knows what would come to light in shifting dialogue just a tad?

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

Destiny's Edge travel northward, and it isn't long before Tiffany manages to probe out of Logan what happened between Eir and Zojja, and so of course the whole story comes out - and to think it happened only a day or so ago? - about the events of Sorrow's Embrace.

Tiffany is, of course, quite amazed at what Fiona has managed to do while separate from her.

"She misses you, though," Logan points out.

"I don't think she realized it herself," Eir puts in, "but she kept glancing around as if she was missing someone."

Beorn sends Tiffany a helpful feeling - he's making a suggestion - followed by understanding, then Eir and the not-very-developed feeling that means Snaff. '_She knows about this sort of thing. She's experienced it with Snaff._'

Tiffany sends Beorn Zojja, but magnified slightly. '_Zojja knows even more about it._'

Beorn pulls back slightly - slightly - from the bond, and sends Zojja, before returning to normal. '_Zojja doesn't talk about this sort of thing._'

Tiffany sends agreement, and then Beorn sends Fiona, putting the conversation back on track. Tiffany frowns. "I'm sure it's alright," she says slowly. "She's never had problems with loneliness before."

"Has she ever gone for many weeks without you?" Logan asks pointedly.

Tiffany sighs. "_I_ don't know what it's like to be alone. I've had Beorn and Forgal with me… I can't really empathize as much. I just can't imagine being very alone - the only equivalent is when I thought Beorn had died, and that's completely different."

"It's one of the flaws of bonded people," Eir agrees, "not being able to comprehend loneliness."

A sound comes from Big Zojja, like Little Zojja had started to say something and changed her mind.

"You should talk to her next time you see her," Caithe advises.

"I will, of course I will," Tiffany says, frowning.

* * *

Destiny's Edge locates its final member in Senecus Castrum, and Rytlock seems as surprised as Tiffany that Eir and Zojja are here together, and he is quickly that they have resolved their differences.

Tiffany is standing off to the side, watching this - for once, happy - reunion of Destiny's Edge. She doesn't know why it seems slightly strained, but perhaps it doesn't - she has hardly been around for any happy Destiny's Edge time.

Rytlock smirks up at Big Zojja. "I see you've brought the big guns," he says, evil malice in his voice. "Baelfire won't know what hit him."

And suddenly, Tiffany realizes. Logan, Eir, Zojja, Rytlock and Caithe work together well and easily, but where there's Big Zojja, there's always been Big Snaff… and now there isn't. If it had just been Little Zojja and no golem, it would have been normal… but with Big Zojja…

Destiny's Edge, however, are trying to ignore it. Tiffany hopes it doesn't explode in their faces. She knows - or, more like it's logically the only thing that could happened - that each of the pairs in conflict have talked out their differences - Logan and Rytlock, and Eir and Zojja - but the group as a whole hasn't talked past their loss.

Tiffany is no therapist, but she suspects that the best thing for all of them is to sit down and grieve together, for once. She doubts they did before.

Rytlock takes the team out to the gates of the Flame Citadel to explain what the odds are and what they are up against. Tiffany, knowing these details already, goes looking for Forgal, having not seen him in almost a week. It does take a while to get to here from the Black Citadel, despite having taken only an hour to find Destiny's Edge and talk to General Almorra.

* * *

She finds him talking to Vargok in the Iron Legion's barracks. "Hey you two," she says, plopping down on her bunk. "Long time no see, eh?"

"There you are," Forgal says. "I was wondering whether all that commotion was you. What's with the twenty-foot-tall golem with an asuran head?"

Tiffany laughs. "That's the herald of Destiny's Edge," she proclaims grandly. "It's called Big Zojja, and it's piloted by Little Zojja. And it can stomp you flat, and has conduits for Zojja's elemental magic. I think. I know she can do her magic through it, anyway."

Vargok huffs. "Zojja? What's she doing here?"

"Rytlock wanted me to get Destiny's Edge to help deal with Baelfire."

"So, they can deal with Flame fanatics but not Elder Dragons. _Great_."

"Hey, they're working on it," Tiffany retorts. "If you want to talk about them, go ask Zojja about the golem - I'm sure she'll be quite happy to extoll its virtues to you. It has vocal transmitters so she can communicate with people from inside of it, and it is based off of a mental link between her and the golem. It's technically called a… oh if I can remember the word… cephalolithopathic."

"Cephalolithopathic," Vargok says slowly, piecing the word together. "Oh! A _golem_?"

"Yep," Tiffany says. '_I know I got the word right. It's probably just scientific technical jimjam that I don't know a thing about._'

Vargok huffs. "I don't know enough cephalo jargon."

Tiffany frowns. "You just said the word."

"No, it's one word composed of several different words," the charr explains. "The affix _cephalo-_ means it has something to do with the brain or the head. _Litho_ means 'stone' and the suffix _-pathic_ means 'suffering' or 'feeling.' So the word 'cephalolithopathic' would mean a stone that has a brain and can feel. And I don't know much about cephalo stuff. Don't ask me how I know the word 'cephalo' in the first place."

"Huh," Tiffany says. "That's interesting. Anyway, Forgal, how's your week been?"

"Asvor didn't try to kill me," Forgal points out.

* * *

Fairly soon, the order to prepare for battle makes its way down the ranks, and the soldiers start marching out to the gates of the Citadel.

Tiffany isn't sure what role she is to play in the battle - either fighting Flame Legion with the rest of the charr or with Destiny's Edge - and while she is sure she'll have a lot of fighting to do either way, she really wants to see Zojja - Big and little - in action.

Her hopes are realized when Eir finds her and brings her to where the rest of Destiny's Edge - whole and complete - are standing in a group near the gates of Senecus Castrum.

Rytlock turns to Tiffany and starts outlining the plan. "Rox is going to take her tunneler through the gate, backed up by the Spine, Gut and Forge warbands - minus you - and quickly followed in by the rest of the legions. She's shown Zojja how to operate the other one I had built while you were away, and we'll burrow our way around the side before cutting our way in in true strike team fashion - we'll take down anything that sees us and get straight at Baelfire."

Tiffany nods. "I understand." she glances around. "Will Big Zojja fit through the tunnel?"

Eir frowns. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I'll go through the gate," Zojja volunteers. "Big Zojja isn't much good on a sneak-in-and-assassinate mission, anyway."

"Are you sure?" Eir asks. "We should all stick together." Nobody needs to mention what happened the last time they didn't.

"Somebody else could pilot Big Zojja, perhaps?" Tiffany suggests. "In all the stories, I've always wondered why it was just the asura that ever used a laurel, when anyone else could probably use them just as well."

Zojja sniffs. "No charr would even fit in the cockpit, much less fit in the laurel, much less get my approval to pilot Big Zojja."

"But Big Zojja doesn't need to be controlled from the cockpit," Eir remembers. "The cockpit just makes it easier."

"And safer," Logan adds.

"And no charr would _want_ to pilot a golem that has an asura's head, anyway," Rytlock points out.

"It doesn't have to be a charr," Caithe speaks up.

Tiffany blinks. If it's not a charr and it's not one of Destiny's Edge, that leaves her or Forgal, and if no charr fits in the cockpit then certainly no norn could. Apparently the rest of Destiny's Edge have come to that conclusion as well. Tiffany opens her mouth to protest, but she is interrupted.

"That would work," Logan nods. "The laurel would fit - asuran heads are about the same size as human heads - and the cockpit might be a tight squeeze, but it would work."

"It would be quite morale-boosting," Rytlock points out, "having the personal golem of one of Destiny's Edge on their front lines."

"It would distract Baelfire and make him think we were with the main contingent," Eir points out. "That could be a real advantage."

Tiffany knows these are all good arguments, but she also knows that Zojja is unlikely to yield just because her companions all say so - this is _Big Zojja_, and if Tiffany accidentally crashes it or something…

"How would Beorn factor in to this?" Tiffany asks, finally finding an excuse. "It's not like we could both fit in the cockpit, and it would be kind of odd for him to be running around on the ground."

"Garm suggests that he could come with us," Eir suggests. "If neither of you mind, of course."

"The question is whether Zojja minds," Tiffany finally retorts. "She had three criteria; that the person fit in the cockpit, that they fit in the laurel, and that they 'get her approval to pilot Big Zojja.' This whole… discussion is pointless if Zojja doesn't want me to pilot her golem."

Caithe looks at Tiffany in wonder. "Are you _looking_ for ways to get out of this?"

This gives Tiffany pause. Why _is_ she rebelling so hard?

"I don't mind," Zojja says finally, and Tiffany blinks at her. The blast shield surrounding the cockpit comes down and the door opens as Zojja slips out of the harness.

"You don't?" Tiffany asks incredulously. "I've never used something like this before. What if I crash it?"

Zojja huffs. "Your very reluctance and caution at attempting this is proof enough to me that you'll be _very careful_," she says sternly, clearly conveying the message that if she _does_ crash, Zojja will be very angry, but she is not giving Tiffany the chance to say no.

"Do I have to give you an order, Warmaster?" Rytlock asks severely, and Tiffany sighs in defeat.

"Fine," she grumbles. "I have _really_ spent to much time under charr command," adds under her breath. "Show me how to use it," she says to the asura. '_Fiona will be _so_ jealous,_' she realizes as Zojja finds the golden laurel that is still in the cockpit and puts it on her head. Tiffany feels slightly ridiculous with it, but Zojja insists that she see how the golem responds from the ground before getting into the cockpit.

Recalling Zojja's first experience from the book with Big Zojja, Tiffany has to suppress a grin - a hard task - while she watches Big Zojja respond to her every movement. It is creepily amazing. "Snaff built this?" she asks in wonder. "This is ingenious."

"Of course it is," Zojja retorts. "Snaff was brilliant."

"I never said he wasn't," Tiffany says with feeling. Reading about something and experiencing it are two completely different things. She tentatively takes a step while wearing the laurel, and is astounded at the size of the step echoed in Big Zojja. "I'll… have to get used to walking."

"Don't worry," Eir says, amused. "It took Zojja a while to learn, too."

This time Tiffany does giggle. '_This is so surreal._' She does wonder about how the golem walks around while she walks in place, and experiments with a few different ways of walking in place to figure out what works - and comes up with new labels for them in the process.

Eventually she gets the hang of it, and wonders how it will work when she is in Big Zojja's cockpit. Zojja seems to have arrived to the conclusion that Tiffany can pilot Big Zojja now, and tells her to get in the cockpit.

At first, Tiffany wonders if she'll fit in properly, but it turns out that Snaff had left a lot of room in the cockpit of the twenty-foot-tall golem - the whole torso - and, while it is slightly snug, Tiffany has plenty of room to move around in. Zojja closes the door to the golem, throwing Tiffany into pitch blackness, and her voice hisses through a speaker in Tiffany's ear.

"You be careful with Big Zojja, Tiffany, or I will rip your head off and hit you in the face with it."

Rytlock's voice comes through the speaker. "You know that's physically impossible, ri - "

"I know it's physicaly impossible! It is a threat designed to show that I _can_ do the impossible if I am angry enough."

"Oh," Tiffany says. "You meant the threat _literally_. I'll be quite careful, I promise."

"Of course you will," Zojja says, her voice deadly. "Now go knock down a gate."

Tiffany nods, opens her mouth because they can't see her nod, and then realizes that Big Zojja's head nodded when she did. She wonders how weird it looks from the outside, knowing that she is in here and not Zojja.

She closes her eyes to center herself, but instead of more pitch blackness than there had been before, she is looking out of Big Zojja's eyes. '_Wow, that is awesome,_' she notes. '_And very odd, looking down at everyone._'

She takes a step forward - moving in thin air for her, but the golem responds to the movement fluidly. It is an odd experience. She turns toward the gate of the Citadel of Flame, where the army of charr is waiting for Rox to tunnel into the gate.

Tiffany, feeling safely anonymous inside the golem, walks Big Zojja up to the gate and punches it, wincing preemptively and unnecessarily. Big Zojja's fist crashes into the gate, making a large hole and not even denting the golem's metal hand. Tiffany grins and finishes destroying the gate.

Forgal, Vargok and the Spin and Gut warbands promptly head into the large gap, with Tiffany following along. She figures out how to use the water cannons mounted in Big Zojja's framework, and grins as she shoots gigantic blasts at various Flame threats, resulting in plumes of steam. It lacks the punch it would have had if Zojja's elemental magic had been behind the streams of water as well, but it works.

Of course, the small army of charr and the lone golem quickly encounter massive amounts of Flame Legion, but the force of a jet from the water cannons distracts the Flame Legion for long enough for the charr to get in and scatter their ranks.

Beorn is sending Tiffany signals - fainter than normal due to the distance - concerning Destiny's Edge. Tiffany knows when they are in battle and when they are enacting different tactics - stealthy sneaking around or beating up anyone that sees them or turning the Flame Legion's weapons against them - and when one of them gets injured.

The charr are pressing in to the Flame Citadel. They know that their role is distraction, and they play bait surprisingly well. The gigantic golem in their midst helps with the illusion that this is the real threat, particularly since Big Zojja is actually a big threat.

Tiffany doesn't just spray water - Big Zojja is twenty feet tall, and things half her height are ripe for punching. It's as easy as throwing around three-year-olds - just with intent to kill rather than intent to tickle.

And then a group of Flame shamans appear. Tiffany directs Big Zojja's water cannons at them as the charr charge the shamans, but the Flame magic this time is strong enough to counter the effect. Water contacts with Flame shields, and steam goes up, but the shields hold strong.

Tiffany shrugs and stomps in to physically beat up the shamans with the rest of the charr.

The Flame Legion seem to be getting desperate - masses of the fanatics are swarming the Legions' contingent and nearly overwhelming them - the only reason they manage to stay up and going is because of Big Zojja's power.

The bond with Beorn is telling her that Destiny's Edge is succeeding and they are not in danger, which is the extent of the information that Tiffany is able to understand while in mid-battle.

But not long after, an otherworldly roar echoes through the Citadel. Beorn tells Tiffany that Destiny's Edge are fighting Baelfire, and something isn't right. The Flame Legion brighten and fight on with renewed vigor. The two circumstances together strike fear into the invading charr, and the battle is fierce.

Molten lava is being deftly manhandled. The shamans are being heavily protected by the Flame soldiers. After a very short while, they start targeting Big Zojja. Tiffany fears that the golem could be melted. She works on forging a path through the multitudes of Flame Legion to get at the shamans. Vargok and Forgal are right behind her.

Beorn's feelings are jumping around as he helps Destiny's Edge fight Baelfire. It is distracting to Tiffany, and she delicately walls him out, but not in such a way that he can't break through if he needs to. It hurts slightly, blocking the link, and it goes against every instinct, but it was just so distracting. It would have been different if they were fighting the same battle.

Big Zojja claws through the Flame fanatics at crazy speed - at least compared to the charr - but once they realize who her target is, they swarm her, trying to take her down.

The golem sustains injury - white-hot blades sear scars into Big Zojja's body before their wielders' heads are crushed by her swinging fist.

The Flame Legion don't want Big Zojja anywhere near their shamans - they are sacrificing tactics and soldiers to stop her. This, of course, just encourages Tiffany to try harder. Flanked by Forgal and Vargok and backed by more allied charr, she carves a path through the Flame Legion.

It's hard going, though. The Flame Legion are throwing their all into stopping her, and not just Big Zojja is taking wounds.

And then the shamans collapse like puppets. All of them. The Flame Legion are thrown into a panic, rushing around carelessly and shrieking their heads off.

Only a minute later, Destiny's Edge appear from behind the Flame Legion. This just makes the army of Flame throw their hands up in surrender.

"What happened?" Tiffany asks out loud.

"No idea," Forgal replies, his voice crackling through the speaker in Tiffany's ear. This recalls Tiffany to herself, and she opens her eyes to the darkness of the cockpit. But she does feel nervous about not being able to see anything, so she closes them to see the battlefield again.

She drops the barrier on the link to Beorn as he approaches Big Zojja. Tiffany looks around one last time at the charr taking the surrendering Flame Legion prisoner, and carefully climbs out out of the golem.

She is very disoriented at first - turning from a twenty-foot-tall metal giant to a five foot human - but she recenters herself easily enough.

"You alright, Tiffany?" Forgal asks.

"Yeah, just disoriented," Tiffany tells him. "You're the one with potential for injury, are you alright?"

Forgal nods. "Vargok has a vast array of healing elixirs. He doesn't have magic, but he's got chemistry and technology."

Tiffany smiles at the charr. "Thanks. I couldn't have kept this big idiot alive that well."

"Hey!" Forgal protests amid the laughter of his friends.

Beorn and Destiny's Edge reach her by this time, and Zojja runs a critical eye over the golem. She sniffs. "She's in better condition than I expected, honestly."

"You're… very good at making threats?" Tiffany suggests.

Rytlock laughs. "That she is, and she's good at executing them, too."

"So, what did you guys do? I've never seen Flame Legion surrender before." Actually, Tiffany reminds herself, she's never seen NPCs surrender before, unless it was part of the storyline.

"Baelfire was trying to turn himself into a god," Rytlock says, snorting in disapproval. "He spread this news throughout the Citadel of Flame as a morale-booster. He was drawing on the lifeforce of every shaman in the Citadel, apparently, and promised it wouldn't kill them if he succeeded. None of them considered him failing, apparently, and when all the shamans collapsed as he fought to remain alive, they panicked. Destiny's Edge appearing put two and two together in their minds, it seems."

"Well, I'm glad it was managed. We were being overrun."

Zojja is glaring over Tiffany's shoulder. Tiffany glances in that direction and sees Vargok smirking at the asura.

"Do you two know each other?" Tiffany asks, bewildered.

"If we hadn't had enough Flame on our hands today, charr," Zojja says to Vargok, "I'd singe you all over again."

Tiffany frowns. "What's this about?"

"Best not to ask," Logan advises. "Her enemies are her own."

"But she's threatening to singe my friend," Tiffany protests, only then realizing how absurd that sounds.

Zojja turns a mild glare at her. "Really? For how long?"

"For how long?" Tiffany repeats, wondering why Zojja is asking. "I met him when I was assigned here - seven weeks? Eight?"

"Good," Zojja sniffs, turning back to the charr.

"Don't singe him," Tiffany warns.

Zojja looks at Tiffany defiantly. "Why not?"

Tiffany blinks. "Actually, go right ahead," she shrugs, smirking at Vargok, who sighs in long-suffering. Forgal laughs. "I've yet to see him react to being singed, and I have to document it for Fiona's study of - " she finally breaks into a gale of laughter.

Zojja huffs and changes the subject. "Rytlock, what exactly will your job be composed of now that the Flame Legion are defeated?"

Rytlock pauses. "Likely focusing on the ghosts - adding soldiers to the rotations to give them all a break from fighting the same ones over and over - but there will be a lot of charr manpower going to waste. They'll probably be reassigned to work with the Vigil or the Priory or the Order of Whispers - depending on the Legion, most likely."

"The world needs to see Destiny's Edge in action," Caithe points out. "Maybe we should look for another dragon champion to fight."

There is silence for a minute as they contemplate this.

"Does the Fang of Jormag count as a champion?" Forgal asks.

"We… tried that one before," Eir informs him, her face clouding over.

"But you see," Tiffany inserts, "there's a saying that goes 'if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.' So long as you at least try. And another saying that goes 'try everything, even if you could fail.'" Slightly paraphrased, Tiffany knows, but she can hardly start singing Try Everything. Not that she remembers anything but part of the song, anyway. "I mean, that's the idea you used on the Dragonspawn. Didn't work the first time, so you got more people and tried again. And another saying that goes 'third time's the charm.'"

"Since when are you full of wise sayings about this?" Logan asks.

"Since you almost never get anything the first time," Tiffany shrugs. "How many times have you had to try again to get what you wanted?"

"Another thing you could try," Vargok suggests, "instead of immediately going off and finding another adventure, you could just talk and be _normal_ friends for a while, so a repeat of Destiny's Divide doesn't happen?"

"Destiny's Divide?" Zojja snorts. "_That's_ what you're calling it?"

Tiffany shrugs - there are many worse things some people could think up. _Kralkatorrik's Menace_. Maybe _Snaff's Legacy_, or _Glint's Misfortune. _Rytlock reminds Zojja of this out loud, but without any examples. Nobody wants to hear Zojja's reaction to 'worse things.'

"His point still stands," Caithe notes.

"Come to think of it, we hardly know anything about each other," Logan realizes. "I mean, Rytlock knows I had a brother, and that's about it. Heyy," he realizes, turning to Rytlock, "we never did find out why Caithe was following us when we first met her."

"Because she kind of had to or else she wouldn't have been following or some circular logic like that," Rytlock agrees, trying to remember the odd event of six years past.

Caithe rolls her eyes.

"Probably because she thought you were interesting," Tiffany points out. "Why else do you follow people?"

Zojja huffs. "Nothing is ever that simple with Caithe."

"If I thought you weren't interesting, would I have followed you?" Caithe wonders. "Being interested had to have been at least part of it."

"Cryptic!" Rytlock hollers, throwing up his hands. "Cryptic, again! Told you, Logan!"

Logan chuckles. "Come on, let's get back to Senecus Castrum. No need to stand around on the battlefield talking."

The now-united group makes its way back to Senecus Castrum, but the unofficial Forge warband - Vargok, Tiffany and Forgal - stay to oversee the aftermath of the battle.

* * *

Later, of course, Tiffany tells Forgal about General Almorra's request that the two Warmasters return back to the Keep after the fall of the Citadel.

"We'll return, then," Forgal agrees. "No need to keep her waiting."

Tiffany goes and says goodbye to Rox and Vargok, and somehow the news that she is leaving reaches Rytlock, and he and Destiny's Edge, who decide they are no longer needed, decide to make the return journey with them.

So Destiny's Edge, Tiffany, and Forgal all leave the Citadel of Flame firmly in the hands of the charr of the Black Citadel.

It takes two days to reach the Black Citadel, and there Rytlock leaves them to report news of the fall of the Citadel of Flame. The rest of them go through the gate and split up - Destiny's Edge to their respective home cities, and Tiffany and Forgal waypoint north to the Vigil Keep.

* * *

"I am happy to see you getting along," General Almorra notes as the two Warmasters enter her office.

Tiffany smiles, pleased that the General is taking an interest in the conflict. She salutes. "Warmaster Tiffany, reporting, General," she says.

"Warmaster Forgal, reporting, General," Forgal says, echoing the salute.

"At ease, Warmasters," the General says, amused. "I have heard many favorable reports of your work with the Legions, but I want my two best Warmasters down here. Did you take the Citadel of Flame?"

"Yes, General," Forgal informs her. "The charr were securing their hold on the place when we left, and Tribune Brimstone felt it was safe enough to leave in the hands of his subordinates."

"Very good," General Almorra nods. "I think they do not need you anymore, and I do. But you also need a break. Take a day or so to rest, then report back here. Today is Friday - I want you back here on Monday. Dismissed."

"Understood, General," the two Warmasters chorus, and then they turn to leave.

"Wait," the General calls when they are near the door. "You came straight here from Ascalon, didn't you?" she asks amusedly.

"Yes, General," comes the reply.

The General shakes her head in amusement. "Go take a break," she tells them.

* * *

"I'm HOME!" comes a familiar voice hollers. "Petra! Andrew! Deborah if you're here!"

Fiona's chair is on the floor and the door is swinging shut in a heartbeat. She barely stops to think about the fact that she had been left out of Tiffany's welcome-home call.

"Tiffany!" Fiona shrieks, cannonballing downstairs. She sees Tiffany and hugs her, then bounces back with a smile. Then she sees Forgal and raises an eyebrow, her eyes darting to Tiffany nervously. Now she does think about it. She hasn't seen Tiffany for two months, and Tiffany has been with Forgal this whole time.

"We made friends again," Tiffany says cheerfully. "And I am quite sure he is entirely, vastly, too much to say relieved that he didn't kill me. I know stuff like that."

Fiona throws up her hands, groaning. "Of _course_ you know stuff like that!"

Forgal looks on in confusion as Tiffany counters with "yeah, and?"

"And I _know_ already!" Fiona sighs, with a spark of joy that Tiffany is still normal. Wait, why had she thought Tiffany might not be normal? "You don't need to go on mentioning it over. And. Over. _Again_!"

"I haven't mentioned it in _ages!_" Tiffany retorts.

"I haven't seen you for two months, of _course_ you haven't mentioned it in ages!" Fiona snaps, realizing that this is her source of irritation. She wants things to stay the same. Fiona's unending irritation at Tiffany for continually mentioning her obsession over the end of Heart of Thorns, and Tiffany's careless attitude toward Fiona's irritation had become almost a part of their lives before Tyria, and even after for a good long while. The absence of it stings.

"Ages before that! I mean seriously! When was the last time? Can you remember? If not, that's a good sign!"

"Of course I can't remember." Fiona rolls her eyes. She can't, really. She'd never bothered. "You're the one with the freaky memory."

"Freaky memory? I'm sure - "

"Are you two arguing over nothing _again_?" Petra cries, entering the room. "You haven't seen each other in two months and this is how you greet each other?"

'_Well, at least one thing is the same,_' Fiona smirks. "Yes, of course."

"It's par for the course," Tiffany chimes in. "You were expecting otherwise?"

Petra sighs. "I'd hoped you'd be a bit more subdued this time."

"What, after bottling it all up for eight weeks straight?" Tiffany queries. "Now, Fiona. I know most of what you've been doing for the last eight weeks, so I will tell you what I've been doing."

"Wait, how do you know what I've been doing?"

"Rytlock sent me to collect Destiny's Edge to help kill Baelfire, the Flame Imperator in the Citadel of Flame. From what I hear, it was the day after the whole Sorrow's Embrace thing. I didn't realize you were home until we were already halfway back to Senecus Castrum, or I would've come and seen you."

"And the battle for the Flame Citadel was really the only notable part of our eight weeks," Forgal puts in humorously. "Tiffany was inside this gigantic golem with Zojja's head and - "

Fiona's eyes pop wide. "You were piloting Big Zojja? I hope Little Zojja didn't almost kill you - I'd be terrified to even think of piloting it, if it got even a scratch while under my care - "

"Yeah, I kinda felt the same way. I didn't realize exactly what it was at the time, I just knew I didn't want to pilot it," Tiffany nods. "And I got it all terribly beat up and I was terrified, but apparently Zojja expected a lot worse and she didn't even yell at me. I mean, Flame Legion with white-hot swords are rather deadly to steel. Big Zojja has some permanent scars now, but nothing disabling. Maybe Zojja doesn't care about it getting beat up, just cessation of functionality?"

"Maybe," Fiona nods, hoping Zojja doesn't brew some secret plan for revenge later. "So, I also made some friends of the people who were with me in the Priory team - a guy named Leon Traydor who is obsessive over Elder Dragons and all things machinery, a charr named Kazakh Grimefur who was interested in the architectural soundness of Sorrow's Embrace, and an asura named Izza who uses a mix of Deception and Nature, which was interesting. She was more interested in dredge biology than technology or structures or history."

"Huh," Tiffany remarks. "Speaking of making friends, I met somebody named Rox. She's awesomely cool, and she seems to be friends with Rytlock."

"Really? Neat!" Fiona smiles. Rox, from what she has heard, is an interesting person.

"We also met a Vigil Crusader named Vargok," Forgal inserts. "He didn't like it, but everybody called us the Forge warband."

"Why didn't he like it?" Fiona queries, frowning.

"All his warband were killed by Flame Legion, and he didn't want us messing up their memory," Tiffany explains. "But it was easier to say 'the Forge warband' than 'Warmaster Tiffany, Warmaster Forgal, and Legionnaire Vargok,' so everybody said the easier one. We were technically under Vargok's command anyway, so it kinda made sense."

Fiona nods. "I see. And I suppose being Legionnaire to you two was the only way to get out of being gladium?"

"He was considered gladium anyway," Tiffany informs her. "Legionaire Spinebreaker really hates the Vigil, it seems. When Rytlock arrived and found out she was treating us like gladium, he almost killed Spinebreaker. Fortunately, he told us first and we were able to convince him not to."

Fiona nods. "Fortunately is right. Have any adventures? Like, aside from piloting Big Zojja?"

"Well, we conquered like ten Flame centers. They're all somthing Castrum. There was Senecus Castrum, Invictus Castrum, Atrox Castrum - "

"Okay, I get it," Fiona laughs. "You conquered stuff, I studied stuff, and now we're both telling each other what a boring time we had."

Tiffany nods. "Right on the dot."

Then, Deborah enters the room. "There you are, Tiffany! Hi, Forgal!"

"You don't seem overjoyed to see me," Tiffany teases. Fiona smirks. She knows why.

"That's because I knew you'd be coming home," Deborah explains. "I'm the _reason_ you came home."

"Wait, huh?" Tiffany frowns.

"I decided to join the Vigil, and General Almorra decided to call you home."

"That's awesome!" Tiffany beams. "When did you join up?"

"About a week ago," Deborah says. "Petra's been despairing all week that any of her daughters will survive to old age."

"Aww," Tiffany says. "We'll just have to prove her wrong, then. I won't die."

"She's not gonna believe you, sis," Deborah laughs. "She'll believe it when she sees it."

Suddenly, Tiffany's eyes pop wide. "Have you been assigned a mentor yet?"

"No," Deborah smirks. "I think General Almorra was going to assign you to that task."

"Alright, we'll start preemptively, then," Tiffany grins. "Lesson number one: how well do you know the Vigil motto?"

"Is that what General Almorra said about fighting and being free?"

"Yep. Some must fight so that all may be free - and don't you forget it."

"I'll do my best," Deborah promises, "and I live by the meaning even if I don't recall the words."

"That's the spirit," Forgal nods.

While Forgal answers a question that Deborah has, Fiona pulls Tifany aside. "You should report to the Chantry - and," she adds, lowering her voice nervously, "Talk to Vriré. I've been promoted to Agent, but we probably shouldn't discuss it now."

Tiffany glances back at Forgal. "He seems occupied with Deborah right now. Sound enchantment, I want to talk to you about that."

"It's up," Fiona nods, having enacted the magic.

"I'd like to include Forgal more in Whispers stuff - to reassure him we won't turn evil or anything, you know?" Tiffany explains hurriedly. "Maybe introduce him to Vriré or bring him along on a mission so he knows what we're doing."

Fiona nods thoughtfully. It would temporarily raise the risk of Forgal turning on them again, but in the long run he'd get used to it more easily. "That would be a good idea," she nods. "Should we put it in those terms? Or just introduce him and not let him know why?"

"We don't know whether he knows that Vriré is Whispers," Tiffany points out. "We could just disguise it as a group meeting of our friends or something - like to introduce them. Maybe if we included Sieran it would be less focused on him and Whispers stuff. He's already spent a lot of time with Destiny's Edge, traveling back and forth from the Citadels, but he hasn't met Sieran yet, has he?"

Fiona shakes her head. "I don't think so. You've got a good idea going, though - get all our friends to know each other. Vriré doesn't exactly count as a _friend_, but we can spin it that way to Forgal. You'll tell Vriré this when you report?"

"Of course," Tiffany nods. "We should set up a meeting - neutral territory, maybe, like Lion's Arch - before I go, though. I'll tell Forgal, and maybe you could find Sieran?"

Fiona smiles. "Can do. We're awesome."

"I suppose."

Fiona beams. "Suppose. Now let's talk to Forgal and stop hiding behind enchantments," she prods, canceling the magic behind their silent communication.

* * *

Tiffany enters the Record Room in the Chantry of Secrets and checks her file. There is a notice there to report to Vriré at her earliest convenience, and it gives directions for finding the Lightbringer's office.

Tiffany adds the meeting of friends in Lion's Arch - Forgal had suggested the Gangplank Bridge - to her schedule and makes her way to Vriré's office.

"Come in, Initiate," the asura calls when Tiffany knocks.

Tiffany enters the office, and sits in the chair that Vriré indicates. "So, your mission is complete?" Vriré asks. "What are the charr up to?"

"Yes, Lightbringer," Tiffany confirms. "The charr managed to take the Citadel of Flame and kill Gaheron Baelfire."

"The one that signed the alliance document with Vyacheslav?"

"Yes, Lightbringer," Tiffany nods.

"I see. I understand you went with Forgal?"

Tiffany nods. "We've overcome our differences. Also, me and Fiona have talked to Forgal and decided to have a meeting of friends in Lion's Arch. I added it to my schedule, but I thought it might help him adapt if he could meet you in person, knowing who you are."

Vriré nods. "I see. I will make an effort to be there. Is there anything else you can tell me about him?"

"No," Tiffany says simply. She won't betray Forgal's trust.

Vriré nods as if that is the answer she was expecting. "I have not located Asvor, though her A-Key has been turned on several times, so we know she is not dead."

"Could someone have stolen the A-Key?"

"Not without leaving her alive. Her file has not reported her death - as it will if she dies while wearing the A-Key, whether it is activated or not - and until then we must keep searching."

Tiffany nods. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"I assume your sister has informed you of her promotion?"

"Yes, Lightbringer."

"Despite it being against custom, I am sure she has - or will soon - tell you all the details of what being an Agent means," Vriré sighs. "It is also against protocol to promote official partners separately, but you have not had any interaction with the Order for the last eight weeks, and Fiona… well, I am sure she will tell you. You two are very exceptional students - and, Initiate? Please get promoted soon, so I can go back to calling you both in the same word."

Tiffany snickers. "I'll try, Lightbringer. 'Students' works, though, or any variation."

Vriré nods. "Good," she says, as if she hadn't heard the last sentence. "That is all. You can finish your report in your file."

Tiffany, hearing the dismissal in Vriré's words, leaves the room and updates her file. Out of curiosity, she searches through the records as she would the wiki back on earth, and finds that her report has automatically updated the files about the Black Citadel/Flame Legion conflict. The revelation on how the Record Room works is interesting to her, and she decides to return to soon to look up other bits of info.

And, of course, when Fiona hears about the 'new wiki,' she is going to groan and say something along the lines of 'there's even a wiki in _Tyria_, will the horrors never end?'

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I like this chapter! It came out super quick, yeah, to make up for the delay in the last one.

I was unsure at first of the whole Big Zojja thing, but we never got to see the relationships and actions of Destiny's Edge much after coming together in the game.

I _do_ know that is unrealistic for them not to go back to hunting down dragon champions together, but they had just killed an Elder Dragon with the Pact, and so maybe they had a break, and then Mordremoth came along and Destiny's Edge went boom. And I can't rant about it here because the spoiler warning for this story said up till the end of HoT, not any after. /grumble.


	4. Chapter 4: Relationship Problems

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Fiona's relationship with Tiffany is in a downward spiral, and the younger twin retreats to her bedroom to think about it. Petra inadvertently partly solves the problem by introducing a bigger one accidentally; this one, Fiona needs Tiffany's help for. Petra does inform Tiffany of Fiona's problems, though, and the next day they spend some time together with Mat and Ayla adventuring, and everything is fine. Sunday morning, they read _Edge of Destiny_ before heading to Lion's Arch to meet their friends.

* * *

Chapter four: Relationship Problems

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I am so excited. This chapter is the forerunner of one of the most important chapters, and one I am _very_ nervous to write.

Anyway, remember the chapter right after Tiffany is attacked by Forgal? I laid out a warning for religious stuff. Same stuff talked about in this chapter, with the same borders warning the uninterested away. Hope you don't mind :D

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

Fiona had never heard of the 'show, don't tell' rule of writing. But if she had, she would be a living example of why. She hadn't _really_ believed Forgal and Tiffany were alright when she was told, but as she witnesses it, it is much more believable - and the prior suspicion and animosity from Forgal becomes the unbelievable part.

"…and then, this big, flaming charr - yes, literally flaming! - nearly cut me in half, but Forgal cut _him_ in half first!" Tiffany is saying. "Then he stood on the guy's body and said, 'nobody gets to cut Tiffany in half but me!' and I was lucky not to be killed by the next one, I was laughing so hard. Luckily, Vargok was there and he killed that one."

Fiona would never have thought Tiffany and Forgal to make jokes about the time Forgal had attacked Tiffany, but it seems they do.

She had felt slightly cheated to hear that Tiffany already knew everything she had been doing - half the fun is in the retelling, and Tiffany seems to be having an awesome time talking about her near-death experiences. Fiona concentrates hard, and draws out the small, blue touch of Protection that barely covers the tip of her finger. After a moment, she releases the magic. Using Protection is a lot harder than Deception, and Deception fights hard every time. Sometimes, Fiona can't even call the Protection at all, she's so used to listening to Deception.

She has not yet gotten the chance to talk to Tiffany about her promotion to Agent, but that does not make its fact any less true. She has been able to see the dark aura around Tiffany since the upgrade to her A-Key, which features the aura-reader, as well as other features. One of those is a piece that can store magical energy - like her healing signet - that is very like Beorn's cleansing roar.

And she had been given full Agent access to the archives in the Record Room. She is itching to get in there and look at Asvor's files, now that she can.

But Fiona isn't thinking about that right now. She is worried about her and Tiffany's friendship. Being away from _anyone_ for eight weeks is bound to put some distance, and Fiona had been worrying about it the whole time they had been separated. But Tiffany, it seems, just made new friends. Forgal, Vargok, and Rox. She doesn't resent them for it, but she is rather jealous of them.

While she and Tiffany had fallen into their normal routines and casual banter when they reunited, after the first greetings and talking were over, the enthusiasm cooled, so that Tiffany seems to forget that she is there half the time. When she does remember, everything is back to normal, which tells Fiona that Tiffany is not trying to hurt her on purpose, but still Tiffany forgets.

That Fiona hadn't at least been there when Tiffany learned about her adventures in Sorrow's Embrace is rather disappointing. First reactions are always the truest; and it's not like Fiona can _ask_ Tiffany if she is proud of her for killing Kudu - besting even the in-game dungeon, Fiona had checked Tiffany's notes on the original - getting Minister Shukov to stop work on Vyacheslav's weapon, bringing Destiny's Edge together, giving the dredge a head start to becoming as prominent a race as the five 'main' races, and discovering her (admittedly limited) talent for the Aspect of Protection.

It's not that Fiona is unimpressed with Tiffany's own accomplishments - helping the charr get the final blow against the Flame Legion, sewing up the very last gaps in Destiny's Edge, fixing the rift between her and Forgal, establishing a friendship with Rox, and completeing a dungeon every bit as spectacular as Sorrow's Embrace - but Fiona hadn't heard of these beforehand. Tiffany is telling them now. Tiffany gets to know Fiona's reactions in a way that Fiona will never know Tiffany's.

Fiona knows that by splitting up, they accomplished twice as much as they would have together, but she wonders if it is worth it for the rift - seemingly invisible to Tiffany - that has developed in their relationship.

Nobody would ever call Fiona selfish or proud, but there are those who would call Fiona's present mentality exactly that. But it is not pride or selfishness to crave recognition for accomplishments - every child, from the youngest age, is brought up to love the joy that comes of praise for their achievements, and the Tassof family is no exception - either on earth or in Tyria.

Fiona draws on the Aspect of Deception absentmindedly. She traces patterns on the table in front of her, Deception leaving a trail of darkness - as if her finger was wet - in its wake. She doodles random patterns as she watches Tiffany telling Deborah about the adventures that she, Beorn, Forgal and Vargok had.

Fiona portals upstairs, leaving a clone downstairs. She sits on her bed, feeling lost - and more alone than she had in Sorrow's Embrace. She wonders if she can cut her leave off early and return. Leon, Izza and Kazakh are her friends, and being around Tiffany is just… it makes her feel left out.

She even wonders if it is worth it to go to the meeting of friends in Lion's Arch Tiffany has planned for Sunday, but she shoves that thought into a corner of her mind. Of course she's going. Maybe it won't be as bad as at home, where there will be several other people and she'll have someone to talk to.

The door opens, and Fiona looks up hopefully, but it is only Petra. "Hey, Petra," she says. "Do you need me for something?"

"No, I think you need me," Petra says sincerely, sitting on Tiffany's bed across from Fiona.

While Petra is occasionally - alright, almost always - in despair over Tiffany and Fiona's antics, she is still their mother figure, and they are still her children, and she understands them best.

"I know what you're feeling," Petra tells Fiona softly. Despite the fact that saying this almost never helps, mostly because the person saying doesn't know at least half of what the other person is feeling, Fiona knows that Petra means it.

"So?" Fiona shrugs, slightly petulant. "It can't help anything."

"Knowing that somebody understands you is always a help," Petra corrects her, "and your whole problem is that you aren't being understood."

Fiona nods in acknowledgement.

"I know you, and I know Tiffany. She would never do this on purpose to hurt you, and I know that you don't think she would, either. It's just base need for recognition."

Fiona nods again.

"I don't know how to help you," Petra continues, "and there is no god or godess of friendship, but I will tell you this - don't give up on Tiffany."

The older woman leaves the room to let Fiona ponder these words, not realizing that she had left Fiona in slight shock.

"No god of friendship?" she repeats. "But there is! Oh, but there is. And I… I don't know where He is." How can Jesus help her now? She isn't even on earth anymore. But she closes her eyes and folds her hands in prayer, silently begging her Creator for help. Wisdom, patience, long-suffering… just help.

_**IF AVOIDING RELIGIOUS TOPIC, IT STARTS HERE…**_

But she gets no sudden ideas or the comforting feeling that He is near, as happens occasionally when she prays. The magnitude of this overwhelms her - is He even in Tyria? Can he even hear her? Is he watching her, making sure she is safe? What will happen to her if - when - she dies? She wonders if coming to Tyria was such a good thing after all.

"No god of friendship?" she asks again. She trembles. She can't deny his existence - she knows he is real and true - but he isn't _here_. Effectively, what Petra had said is true. Fiona realizes that she is terrified. What now? Why does she exist? Why is she here? The idea of no God - no loving father, no helpful Creator, no friend to run to when she is afraid - terrifies Fiona. She doesn't know what to do. What now? She wants to talk to Tiffany - her previous plight is forgotten in the face of this new one.

* * *

"Fiona, what do you think? What sort of missions is General Almorra likely to send Deborah on?" Tiffany asks, suddenly remembering Fiona is in the room. How could she have forgotten?

Fiona shrugs. "I don't know." Her voice has a listless quality to it. "Fighting to save innocents, killing dragon minions, promoting interracial unity, I suppose." Fiona's mouth twists into a wry grimace.

Then, Petra walks into the room, her eyes darting to Fiona briefly. "It's getting late, you three, we should begin preparing the tavern for the evening," she says, addressing the Tassof sisters. "Forgal, if you want to stay, you're welcome to, but I don't think you'll get much conversation out of them. Friday nights are the busiest."

Forgal shakes his head. "No, I should be going. Thank you for your hospitality, though."

"Oh, it was no problem," Petra replies. "You direct Tiffany and Fiona's energy into something besides pulling pranks."

Tiffany catches Fiona's eye, her own dancing in mirth. '_We_ pull pranks?' she mouths silently. Fiona shrugs back. "Well, goodbye Forgal," Tiffany says. "See you on Sunday."

Forgal waves his goodbye as he leaves the tavern.

Petra turns to Tiffany. "Can you fetch the jar of wood polish? I think it's still in your room from the time you used it on your bookshelf."

"Of course," Tiffany nods, shooting up the stairs.

In her room, she sees Fiona on the bed. "So is this the real you or the one downstairs?"

"I'm not a clone," Fiona assures her, "and I've just realized a big problem. What's the biggest problem in the whole world right now that you can think of?"

Tiffany thinks for a minute. "Aside from the obvious ones, like the fact that the Elder Dragons aren't dead, I'd say… hmm. In the whole world? I don't know."

Fiona sighs sadly. "God. He's - "

"Oh," Tiffany says. "That." She sits down on her bed across from Fiona. "Yeah, I've thought about that. It worries me too."

"How do you cope with it?" Fiona asks. "You're a much deeper thinker than I am, you worry about things like your purpose in life and why you exist and stuff. I'm paralyzed just thinking about a world without God. I can't believe I didn't notice before."

"I trust Him," Tiffany explains. "The Bible says - said? - all sorts of things about looking after his children and never letting them go astray. Once a Christian, always a Christian - God won't let any of us stray too far from the path. And he'll never abandon us or leave us on our own."

"But I don't feel him," Fiona says desperately. "He's not _here_."

"I can't feel him either," Tiffany sighs. "Some days, I don't want to get out of bed in the morning. But I have to trust that He'll come for me. Even if I never feel that he's here again, I have to trust that it'll all turn out all right in the end. That's how He works."

"But meanwhile?" Fiona wonders. "Meanwhile, what do we do without His guidance?"

"The best we can," Tiffany replies simply. "The Elder Dragons are a threat, right? We take out threats. Whether they're Tyria's Satan or just evil, we will try to kill them. In the absence of Jesus, we have to do our best. If the Elder Dragons are Tyria's Satan, we probably can't kill them, but can do our best. If they aren't, we can kill them, and it'll be a big help. Either way, until God contacts us."

"But… he's not _here_," Fiona sighs. "How do we know we're doing the right thing? What if all Tyria is wrong and the Elder Dragons are trying to cull all the races but humans, because they aren't in His image? Mom mentioned something like that once from the Bible about humans mating with devils and having giants - Goliath was one of those - and God killed them all off in some plague or something."

Tiffany frowns. "But the Elder Dragons threaten humanity as well as the other races. And the other races aren't part-humans - except maybe centaurs - they're completely other races. Fiona, we don't _know_. We can't make any informed decisions or have any Holy Spirit-inspired ideas. We might never again. But we should do our best. What is a Christian's highest calling, back on earth?"

"To spread the Word."

"Yes. Saving people's spirits from damnation. We can't spread the Word here - there is no Bible story, no Jesus - but we can save physical lives, if not spiritual ones. Maybe Tyria is just behind earth in history - maybe Jesus hasn't happened yet, but the Flood has. Or maybe the Flood hasn't happened, and the Elder Dragon's are Tyria's Flood. In any case, we should save lives. The Elder Dragons will kill everything, like the Flood would have. Maybe we're Tyria's Noah." Tiffany tilts her head. She hadn't thought of that before. Really, when let free reign, she thinks out loud.

Fiona blinks. "That's… insightful. How long have you been thinking about this?"

"Since Forgal attacked me." Tiffany recalls that troublesome time. "Seems like so long ago, now. It took me a while to figure it out, and I still get anxious if I think about it for too long. What if I'm wrong? What if God _isn't_ here, and I'm missing my chance to believe in something else?" Tiffany stops speaking as the enormity of that statement hits her. Normally - back-on-earth normally - that idea would be horrifying, and she would reject it immediately. But now, it actually sounds inviting. This basic fact sickens her.

Fiona seems to have realized it, too. "What's going on?" she asks faintly. "Why… what?"

"I don't know," Tiffany whispers. "I don't know. But I… oh this so weird. I don't _feel_ him. The unwavering loyalty I felt before Tyria is gone, replaced with… doubt? Uncertainty? I have to choose based on facts now. I can't ask Him for advice. Oh, Fiona."

"Your facts told you before that you'll trust him," Fiona reminds her. "I think that's the best we can do. What do we gain from believing in one of Tyria's religions, anyway? What happens to humans that don't believe in Grenth? I've never heard of a human not doing so, but I can't imagine there's a set punishment in place, somehow. Are we any worse off if we believe in something that's not natively Tyrian?"

Tiffany brightens, nodding. "Yes. If we're using facts, we'll use them. I agree - I've never heard of a punishment for not believing in the Six, even with the alternate Tyrian memories. On the other hand, the consequences of sin without Jesus are quite clear. Logically, we're better off putting our faith in the Holy Trinity rather than the Six. Hey! That helped a lot!"

Fiona grins. "It does. But it is still completely worthless when a major part of our religion lies in communion with God - not communion like at church, but talking and conversing and stuff. Praying and talking to him, and being friends with him. It's empty. If the logic also dictates that, by Christianity's own rules, it _can't_ exist, there's no reason to continue believing in it."

"And thus our conundrum is revived," Tiffany sighs. "And it is giving me a _headache_."

Fiona nods. "Let's talk about something else for now. We'll trust the Holy Spirit by default until something else manages to prove that we shouldn't. Kay?"

…_**AND SKIP DOWN TO HERE.**_

Tiffany nods vehemently. "Right. Christianity by default - ha! I like that idea. Anyway, to change the subject, why were you up here? Why have a clone downstairs?"

Fiona pauses. "I was bored of the conversation, but you seemed to be enjoying it. So I came up here to think."

"But why the clone?" Tiffany persists. "That's kind of odd. I'd have understood if you just left the room 'cause you weren't interested."

Fiona doesn't answer.

Tiffany frowns. "Fiona, is there something wrong?"

"No," Fiona says quickly. "I'm fine. Really, it's nothing."

Tiffany sighs. "I can tell when you're lying, Fiona," she says gently. "Come on, what's the problem?"

"I… you wouldn't understand," Fiona tells her.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of what I would understand?" Tiffany teases gently, eliciting a smile from her sister.

"I'm fine, really," Fiona insists. "It's nothing."

Tiffany frowns. "Alright," she says disbelievingly. "Well, Petra wanted me to get the wood polish. Know where it is?"

"Prolly rolled under a bed somewhere."

Tiffany laughs. "Yeah, right."

* * *

The next day, Saturday, is relatively calm. Fiona locates Sieran and tells her of the meeting in Lion's Arch on Sunday, then returns home and talks about things with Tiffany.

Fiona suspects that Petra had a talk with Tiffany about things, because Tiffany shows a sudden interest in the things she had accomplished while away - or at least she tries to. It's still a problem that she already knows this and it falls flat, but at least she's trying.

Fiona finds a way around this by figuring out what she already knows and telling her the details that she doesn't, which quickly engages her sister. She hadn't heard a thing about Scarlet's 'big secret,' or most of the things about the dredge that Destiny's Edge had left out in favor of the Kudu/Scarlet/Destroyer business.

And, of course, Fiona tells Tiffany all about her promotion. "When I reported to the Chantry after I talked to Ogden, Vriré grilled me. Then she decided that I had done two useful things; I'd influenced the dredge in a major way, and I'd gotten them an inside man - Balryvr - to continue reporting back to them. The first was deserving of a promotion by itself, they said, and just cemented by Balryvr's recruitment. So she promoted me."

"So you have an updated A-Key?" Tiffany asks excitedly. "Can I see?"

Fiona shrugs. "You're not an Agent, so you can't use it, but I can describe its features." At Tiffany's nod, she launches into a description. "I can see the auras of Whispers members. Different ranks have different glows. You're an Initiate, so you're a darkish color. It reminds me of the Aspect of Renewal when necromancers are doing their thing. Vriré was a golden glow, which ties in with the name Lightbringer. Agents are a reddish color. And I can tell names. I just _know_ somehow."

"That's awesome," Tiffany breaths. "Anything else?"

Fiona nods. "There's more controls; I can turn up how far away I can see a glow from, and how easily I can see it through walls and stuff. I can turn it off completely - something that's not available on Initiate aura-generators. It automatically gives me Agent-level access, obviously. I'm sure there's a lot of other features, as well - like the fact that if I die, it'll be automatically reported to my file and Vriré."

"You won't be dying anytime soon," Tiffany assures her. She does feel slightly envious of Fiona - being an Initiate had been normal until Fiona was promoted, and now she wants to be promoted as well. She joined the Order for information, and Initiates are severely limited compared to Agents.

Fiona, however, seems to be thinking about something else. "Should we go see Ayla?" she suggests. "We've been away for - "

Tiffany's eyes widen. "Right. C'mon, let's go."

* * *

Mat and Ayla are, admittedly, quite happy to see them. Mat shows them a tiny geyser - big enough to make a small puddle and not much else - that he had made accidentally one day. Fiona notes amusedly that it still persists. Tiffany points out that it'll make a stream someday - the water is winding a path through the grass in a downhill direction.

Ayla shows them both how she can help Katherine make the family's meals without messing it up. Tiffany and Fiona are quite proud of her, though Fiona does feel a twinge of resentment toward Tiffany. She instantly feels guilty, of course - its not something Tiffany can control - and wonders whether this whole problem might drive a further wedge in their relationship. She certainly hopes not.

Tiffany and Fiona take the day to relax and have some fun, something that neither of them had been able to do much. They take Mat and Ayla on an adventure like they used to do back before the Kellach incident, exploring in a more eastern direction this time.

"It feels like we've fallen into a time bubble," Tiffany comments offhandedly to Fiona, late in the day. "Like it used to be before bigger dragony-like threats actually started getting significant. It's fun and nostalgic."

"Whatever nostalgic means," Fiona replies, rolling her eyes.

"Memory-summoning," Tiffany supplies helpfully. "Or something like that."

Fiona rolls her eyes again. Their bridges seem to have fixed themselves miraculously over the day. She is still not sure exactly what the underlying problem was, but spending time together seems to have helped significantly.

* * *

Sunday morning, before the due appointment with the others on the Gangplank Bridge, Tiffany suggests reading Edge of Destiny, to which Fiona readily agrees.

Chapter twenty eight, _Siege and Storm_, starts out in Ebonhawke, an Ebonhawke decked out for a celebration. Tiffany and Fiona soon learn the occasion; Queen Jennah is visiting, and via the new asura gate.

In the midst of the Queen's inspiring speech, rumbles of thunder are heard in the sky. Dylan, Logan's brother, speaks to the Queen as the storm threatens. However, it soon proves to be no natural storm, and Dylan heads up to see what it might be.

An army of ogres to the north catches his attention briefly, before a sharp crackle of lightning tears through Ebonhawke and the charr camp between them and the ogres. It demolishes the asura gate, satisfying Tiffany's desire to know why Queen Jennah didn't just leave instead of calling Logan, and collapses the southern wall, as well, before continuing southward.

The ogres charge through the charr camp, devastating them and taking no losses, before sweeping on to Ebonhawke,

The scene cuts to Queen Jennah and Countess Anise. They sense - as they put it - "_mind_ in that stroke," and, reminding themselves that "we are mesmers. We know minds - how to touch them, how to turn them. Let us meditate on the mind in this storm."

Fiona gasps. "They can do that? Only the most powerful mesmers can do that! I didn't know Queen Jennah could do that!"

"What about Countess Anise?" Tiffany asks. "Look, it says on the next line; Anise channeled thoughts into her."

Fiona nods. "Any mesmer can help the powerful one mess with minds, but very few can be effective doing so."

"This got a whole lot more interesting," Tiffany notes. "But hey, wouldn't you have known the mind-thing before from how she bonded Logan?"

"I wasn't thinking," Fiona explains. "We knew about some bond or other that connected Logan and Queen Jennah, but it seemed unique and I didn't think about it much."

Tiffany nods.

Queen Jennah looks into Kralkatorrik's mind - a sandstorm. Chaotic, unendingly hungry, and eternally enraged. She stumbles back from the window - she hadn't seen the mind for long, but it had seen her, as well.

The scene cuts to Dylan again, in his element - finally defending her from a tangible threat, rather than walking beside her through political stuff that no soldier should have to deal with.

And then the Branded ogres and hyenas come. Dylan wonders what they are, but sets himself to the task of defeating them.

He takes on one, two, before he is caught in an awkward position and unable to defend himself. He loses his sword, but keeps going. He punches with his bare fists, but (predictably) this doesn't phase the Branded hyena a bit. Despite a terrible injury, Dylan remains defiant, but "it tore him apart." The book spares Tiffany and Fiona the graphic details, leaving it at that.

"End of chapter," Tiffany reports, unnerved by the description of Dylan's death. "I'm beginning to wonder if we shouldn't show this chapter to Logan."

"Only if we want to explain how in the world we came into possession of a document that describes _that_," Fiona points out.

Tiffany nods resignedly. "Chapter twenty-nine, _The Desperate Hour_."

Back at Glint's sanctum, Logan hears the Queen's mental call. He cries out - "No!" - though why, exactly, is not revealed, be it distress at the Queen's plight or the realization that he has to leave his friends.

There is a short scuffle as Rytlock realizes what is going on, Logan asks for Snaff's portable gate, and Eir arrives, asking what is going on.

Rytlock tells her in a brief "he's leaving," and Eir sternly tells Logan to "do what is _right_." Logan takes this as permission to leave, and does so. Rytlock demands why Eir said that, and Eir says that she meant the opposite of how Logan interpreted. Eir quickly takes charge again, telling Rytlock sternly that he isn't here _now_, and he should make the best of it.

The scene switches to Logan, who is heartily greeted by the people of Ebonhawke, and they let him in to see the Queen.

And then he comes upon Dylan's mangled body.

Aaaand it turns out that Dylan isn't quite dead yet. Logan does his best to save him with guardian magic, but it isn't enough - the wounds are too deep. Dylan tells Logan there are too few defenders, but Logan insists everything will be alright. Dylan laughs gratingly, says how funny it is to hear that from Logan, and breaths his last.

Logan, in shock, swears he won't let Dylan down. He forces his way through a door, finds assurance that the Queen is safe, and heads to the dungeons - "hundreds of charr down there," which are "just what we need." He speaks to the charr, saying he can release them.

The charr laugh at him. "we'll swear anything to get out, and then we'll kill you." Logan retorts that they won't, because "I am your brother," and holds up the amulet Rytlock had given him. The charr roar that he stole it, but he corrects them that Rytlock gave it willingly, and once more asks for aid battling the ogres.

The spokesman charr finally agrees. As Logan lets him out, he introduces himself as Flinteye, and says Logan doesn't stink as much as most humans. Logan returns the same of charr, and the two get to work releasing the rest of the prisoners of war.

"Next chapter, again!" Tiffany declares wonderingly. It's called _Kralkatorrik_."

"Ah," Fiona nods. "Quite fitting."

"Indeed," Tiffany agrees.

Back at Glint's sanctum, Zojja is digging a trench. Eir approaches and tells her to get in position, she's done all she can, it all rests on Snaff now.

Big Zojje stood rooted before her. "You promise me he'll be safe."

"I promise," Eir replied, "as long as you get to your post."

Big Zojja nodded. Wow, Fiona," Tiffany says, pausing. "This whole thing between Eir and Zojja got a million times more complicated! Eir _promised_ Snaff would be safe! This isn't Zojja going off on an impetuous anger idea, Eir broke her promise! Not that Eir could have controlled that, but she did promise. Oh dear."

"That part may have decided who Zojja blamed at the beginning," Fiona points out, "but I doubt it factored much with the rest of it."

Tiffany shrugs. "It's over with now, though. We don't have to worry about it anymore."

The scene had shifted to Eir's perspective somehow during the conversation (something that this book seems to be good at doing), and now Kralkatorrik is approaching. Eir takes aim and fires three dragonsblood-tipped arrows at the dragon's bulk as soon as it gets in range. Kralkatorrik breathed corrupting breath at Eir and Garm, and the two hide inside the dome of the sanctuary. Kralkatorrik sweeps over the top of it, and shatters it. Glint vaults out of the ruined sanctum and engages the Elder Dragon.

The scene cuts, now to Glint's perspective. Her eager anticipation, looking forward to this moment for thousands of years, coming into fruition. Glint knows Kralkatorrik, and she uses that. She dive-bombs it, then vaults off its back and goes again. But Kralkatorrik _shifts_ somehow into a sandstorm, an insubstantial dream.

"Wait, that was literal?" Tiffany blinks.

"Must've been," Fiona shrugs with a grimace.

Kralkatorrik grasps her and injures her, puncturing a lung.

The scene switches back to Eir. Eir continues shooting Kralkatorrik, and she realizes that Glint is outmatched. She draws the comparison between a wren and a hawk.

And then, the Branded approach. The crystals in the trenchworks embed in them, and turn them against their fellows. Eir realizes Snaff is in control, and turns her attention back to Kralkatorrik, releasing her arrows.

"That's a lot of trust," Fiona observes. "I wouldn't be able to do that with so many Branded near me."

Tiffany just nods with a sad frown.

The scene switches to Kralkatorrik's perspective, thinking about how it will never let Glint go, but then Eir's arrows impact, distracting the Elder Dragon and letting Glint escape. The focus had shifted to the champion's perspective now, and she frantically glances around for Kralkatorrik's head to place the laurel. She sees it, and almost places the laurel, but the dragon notices her and lunges, fangs snapping into her body.

Glint realizes that she can place the laurel, but only in time to place it before Kralkatorrik bites her all the way through - which would kill her.

"She lunged.

Kralkatorrik bit."

The scene shifts to Eir's perspective. She hears a dragon scream, wonders frantically "Which one?"

Glint tumbles from the sky, unmoving. She plows a furrow into the ground, leaving a smoking trail behind. "The dragon Glint was dead." Tiffany continues without a hitch, still slightly in shock from the dragon's death, despite knowing full well that Glint died in this encounter. "Next chapter, _The Charr Vanguard."_

Logan and Flinteye Blazestone lead the charr from the dungeon up to help fight the Branded.

Logan and Flinteye, in particular, work together as a team to bring down many of the crystalline monsters.

"Thanks," Logan said.

"Whatever," replied Flinteye. This charr cursed Logan!" Tiffany says, surprised. "Even if it _wasn't_ a curse, that's still really weird."

Fiona snorts. "Yeah, 'cause you _aren't_."

Tiffany rolls her eyes.

The battle continues on, and soon there aren't any Branded left in the courtyard. Flinteye disdains that as a good fight, though - fighting the Branded hyenas was, to him, a warm-up to fighting Branded ogres.

"That's one for me."

"This is no game, mouse!" Flinteye roared, thumping his chest.

Logan laughed. "You're no Rytlock Brimstone."

"And you're no Blood Legion warrior!"

Tiffany and Fiona laugh at the byplay between the two. "Getting any flashbacks to Logan and Rytlock's first fight?" Tiffany asks humorously.

"Look out!" Logan shouted, pointing.

Flinteye never saw the massive cudgel that struck him in the stomach and hurled him through the air. He tumbled across the courtyard, crashed into the wall, and slid down in a heap."

After defeating the ogre, Logan rushes to Flinteye's side, where the charr is still alive - barely.

"Flinteye!" Logan said.

"The charr stared back, blood gurgling from his mouth. "Tell Rytlock… tell him I died fighting." His last breath rattled out of his lungs." Tiffany frowns. "The pieces don't fit. Why would Rytlock care about this one soldier? The whole Blood Legion doesn't know each other personally."

Fiona frowns. "Hmm. That doesn't add up. Flinteye sounds more like an Iron Legion last name - I doubt the Blood Legion has a Flint warband, and an Eye warband is just plain weird."

"But Flinteye isn't his last name," Tiffany recalls, flipping to the front of the chapter. "His last name is - oh. Blazestone. Fiona! He was one of Rytlock's warbandmates! Stone warband, not Blaze warband! Oh dear. No wonder Rytlock hated Logan so much!"

"Did Rytlock ever find out, though?" Fiona asks. "Flinteye told Logan to tell Rytlock he died fighting, but I doubt Logan knew the significance of charr last names, then, or bothered to tell Rytlock once Rytlock got hostile. I doubt he'll even remember now that they're friends again."

"Well," Tiffany sighs. "I wonder how knowing that would have changed how Rytlock acted toward Logan. He could've blamed Logan for Flinteye's death, or he could've taken their insta-friendship, in parallel to theirs, as a sign to stop being mean."

Fiona shrugs. "Doesn't matter now. Do we tell them?"

"Why not just tell Logan, and let him decide? His friendship, after all, and his message to deliver," Tiffany points out.

Fiona nods. "Good point."

The ogres group together, and humans and charr group together. The battle begins in earnest now, and even the book makes the comparison between this fight - humans and charr vs ogres - and Logan and Rytlock's first fight. Except that there will be no survivors. The chapter ends on that note.

Fiona suddenly realizes how late it is getting. "We should head to Lion's Arch now," she tells her sister.

Tiffany nods. "Come on."

* * *

The Gangplank Bridge is the connecting beam between Fort Marriner and the rest of Lion's Arch, but it is specifically not Vigil territory. The bridge has a significance to the people of Lion's Arch, and is as public a place as the bank.

Tiffany is standing nervously on the bridge with Fiona, Forgal and Sieran, waiting for Vriré to show up. Fiona had introduced Sieran to Forgal already, and they are chatting amiably.

"Oh, yes," Sieran is saying. "The artifacts that are being uncovered now that the dredge are cooperating is simply astounding! Fiona superbly deserves her promotion to Magister."

"It was the Destroyers' fault," Fiona says loudly.

Tiffany rolls her eyes. "Don't be silly," she tells her sister, who smirks at her. "Before you, they would have been terrified and just that much more intent on conquering the surface races. Since you gave them the idea to ally with us instead, they took that route."

Fiona just beams.

"She's right, you know," Sieran tells her. "Trust me."

"Always trust the expert," Tiffany reminds Fiona with a smirk.

"I've known experts to be wrong," Forgal points out.

"Oh?" Tiffany asks.

"A scholar I know, Trahearne, says the fighting Risen is terrifying. I say its exhilirating."

"It's more of a matter of opinion," Tiffany points out, fighting to keep down a smile. "Trahearne sees more of them day-to-day than you do."

"You know Trahearne?" Sieran asks, surprised, glancing between the two of them. "I mean, I knew Fiona knew Trahearne, so it should be no surprise that Tiffany does, but you, Forgal?"

"Oh, yes," Forgal nods. "Trahearne and I met a few years ago. I've been trying to convince him to join the Vigil for some time, but he insists - "

Sieran laughs. "He won't even consider joining an Order until his Wyld Hunt is complete, mark me on that one."

"He's obsessive about it," Forgal agrees. "He's a good lad, though - dedicated, I mean. The best scholar I've ever had the pleasure to meet. My surprise comes from how Tiffany and Fiona know him."

Tiffany smiles. She just loves it when her friends get along. "We have a mutual acquaintance in Caithe, it seems."

"Ahh, I forgot about that," Forgal nods. "That explains it. How do you know him, Sieran? Oh, wait, I forgot - sylvari."

Sieran smiles. "He inspired me. I got sidetracked onto dredge, but initially I was going to be a Prioryside contact to archive his findings about Orr."

"Really?" Tiffany asks interestedly. "How did the dredge thing happen?"

"I was interested in artifacts," Sieran explains. "Trahearne brought back quite a few, but several other Explorers told me how many - not Orrian, obviously - were lying around in old abandoned dwarven cities, and I got hooked. Since Trahearne only comes back from Orr every few months anyway, I still have the time to talk to him and catalogue his findings."

"That's neat!" Fiona beams. "You never told me that."

"There's a lot of things people don't tell you," says a familiar voice. Tiffany glances down to see Vriré looking up at them. The asura shows no sign of the strain on her neck to look up at the norn. "Like the fact that you two know Trahearne personally."

"I, uh… wait, wasn't he on our contacts list?" Tiffany asks.

"Good memory," Vriré nods. "Yes, he was."

"Is everything a test?" Fiona groans.

"Of course it is," Tiffany reminds her. "This is the Order of Whispers we're talking about."

"Do you know Trahearne?" Sieran asks.

"Not personally, no, but by reputation," Vriré corrects. "He has rather made a name for himself as an expert on Orr."

"Oh, most certainly," Sieran nods. "No member of the Priory _hasn't_ heard about him - he's done the most research into one of the biggest threats to Tyria and its habitat."

Tiffany suppresses a laugh. "Habitat? I'm quite sure if you called Orr 'Zhaitan's habitat' Trahearne would begin telling you how it is much more than that."

"He loves dispensing his knowledge, that's for sure," Forgal agrees. "And it is quite interesting, too."

"I know!" Fiona nods. "My question is how he could gather all this information, surrounded by Risen and crumbling ruins. Probably nothing but stone inscriptions remain of anything written down."

"Magic can preserve surprising things, Fiona," Sieran reminds her. "Orr was a very magically potent place, I wouldn't be surprised if people capable of touching two Aspects were a lot more common. Aspect users probably placed a dozen different preserving enchantments on things - particularly libraries. Those might have eroded when Zhaitan's magic swept the land, but it would at least leave traces behind."

"I never thought of that," Tiffany exclaims. "That's interesting."

"I wonder if the same thing happened to the bodies," Forgal adds. "Orr wasn't resurrected until many years after it sank, any bodies would have completely decomposed. I doubt Zhaitan could have gotten its current army from the preserved corpses of Orrian ancestors."

"It could have, though," Vriré counters. "Orr was the first human nation, and has been existing for nearly ten thousand years. Possibly ten armies are composed of Orr's dead as counted prior the Cataclysm."

"But who would preserve bodies that way?" Fiona asks. "And certainly the Orrians didn't preserve _all_ the bodies throughout all of Orr's history. While they didn't have today's fear of being turned into Risen to incite a desire to be burned upon death, they also had no particular reason to preserve their dead, either."

Something nags at the back of Tiffany's memory about Orrian funeral rites, but she can't recall anything beyond the fact that it had to do with Trahearne. Something she already assumed anyway - all her knowledge of Orr comes from the Firstborn sylvari.

"So where does Zhaitan get its army from?" Forgal asks, keeping the conversation on track.

"Elder Dragons leak magic naturally," Vriré tells them. "After Orr sank, there would have been no magic at all there to mask Zhaitan's, and possibly it automatically preserved anything that could one day become its minions."

"And the bodies would have absolutely no time to decompose, either, since the magical cessation happened at the same time as they all died," Tiffany realizes.

"Unless the Cataclysm ripped all the bodies apart," Sieran suggests.

"Which it obviously didn't do, seeing their perfectly _not_-fallen-apart appearance as Risen," Fiona points out.

Forgal shakes his head. "Risen are all very similar," he says. "You notice how they're all gray and decayed? Even an ally that has just been killed, when corrupted, looks old and rotting. It's part of Zhaitan's magic - perhaps it can't hold all the different states of decomposition in its mind or awareness or however it does it."

"Huh," Tiffany notes. She doesn't ask how Forgal knows this. "That does raise the question of how Zhaitan does do it, though. Does this mean that Risen don't get _more_ decayed the longer they're shuffling around? Or maybe he could raise even the completely decomposed stuff and it would be just like the other Risen?"

"No," Vriré shakes her head. "There are some limits. Destiny's Edge used a special ship design to grind Risen to a paste - that couldn't be resurrected, even by one of Zhaitan's lieutenants."

Sieran nods. "Exactly. This is how we know the Elder Dragons can be defeated - they are not all-powerful, even in their own domains."

Tifany blinks; she hadn't noticed that before, but it is true. Zhaitan's incapability had just been discussed; Mordremoth never could turn all the sylvari, and that was with _both_ his domains; Glint used to be Kralkatorrik's servant and then turned against him. She doesn't know enough about Jormag and Primordus, but she knows if she thinks hard enough she'll find it.

"Hey, that's one thing I've been wondering about," Fiona says. "What happens to the _minds_ of the dead that Zhaitan raises? Are the Risen simply bodies with nothing inside, or are people's spirits called back from the Mists to inhabit their body - either to watch themselves in servitude to the dragon, or to be twisted themselves in its service, or what?"

"I've never seen a spark of intelligence in a Risen before," Sieran proclaims. "They don't even have tactical thinking, much less self-awareness."

"And yet, Zhaitan's lieutenants - whether super-powered champions or just captains - seem to possess a degree of autonomy," Forgal reminds them.

Tiffany nods. "Morgus Lethe was always wary of Magnus the Bloody-Handed's ship, despite normal Risen never seeming to differentiate between targets. Kellach - the threat I dealt with that caused the Vigil to extend an invitation - was certainly self-aware, and raving mad for it. I don't know if that was because the corruption hadn't fully taken hold yet or what, but he was certainly self-aware, and with desires for becoming uncorrupted, too."

"So then the real question becomes," Vriré counters, "is this spark of rational thought and self-awareness the body's original spirit, or is it Zhaitan infusing the body with a touch of its own will? Kellach certainly had his own mind, but he may not have been fully corrupted - or perhaps Zhaitan _allowed_ him to remain himself."

"If we go into the realm of Zhaitan allowing one way or the other, then it could be anything," Fiona points out. "Kellach, in my opinion, seems to be an anomaly, and that tells me he wasn't fully corrupted."

"He didn't look like a corpse to me, anyway, and he never died," Tiffany points out. "It may have been a partial corruption - maybe something that would kill him eventually, or wait for him to be killed, and then raise him, instead of finding him as he died. Either way, I doubt he was fully corrupted."

"So we're left with only a few, like Morgus Lethe," Forgal reasons. "In my personal experience, the Dead Ships present at the destruction of Port Stalwart couldn't have been nearly so effective if every Risen sailor of them - or at least every officer - had enough self-awareness to command the intricacies of sailing."

Tiffany nods. "That makes sense. I don't know anything about Port Stalwart, but I know a few vague things about ships from reading."

"Tiffany knows a few vague things about _everything_ from reading," Fiona says, rolling her eyes.

"Let's not change the subject now," Vriré chides them. Turning to Forgal, she continues, "it appears the Risen are at least capable of rational thought; but giving a person rationality and giving them self-awareness are two different things."

Forgal nods thoughtfully. "And yet, there seem to be degrees of it - some Risen do no more than follow their chosen target around, trying to kill it, while other groups will converge on one target to annihilate it."

"And occasionally, they'll do tactics," Sieran volunteers. "Sometimes they'll funnel people into a trap, or lure them into the open."

"It seems Zhaitan probably can choose," Tiffany points out. "It can give them rational thought, but most likely not self-awareness. Battle smarts and tactics."

The conversation turns to Zhaitan's own self-awareness, and Tiffany smiles. Her friends are bonding over discussing the biggest threat to them all - how wonderful.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Hope you like it! I would have continued the conversation at the end for longer, but the chapter was getting long and I was going to cut it somewhere about here anyway.

(More Christianity topic, in this paragraph only.)Tiffany and Fiona are missing some vital points of Christianity at the moment. Joslyn keeps pointing out different factors that should be contributing, but Tiffany and Fiona don't have a Bible and they don't remember these verses. I did think up a scenario involving only things they _do_ know that would prove to themselves they can safely continue trusting Jesus, but I didn't want to grant them that just yet. I know, I'm evil (given the current topic, I feel compelled to clarify that I am not, actually, evil. I am just mean to my characters. But I'm sure none of you needed that clarification. I'm just weird).

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Chapter 5: Claw Island

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Tiffany, Fiona, Vriré, Forgal and Sieran find and fight Zhaitan's greenish Orrian scout, then take their warning to Claw Island, where Trahearne joins them. Talon, despite all arguments to the contrary, doesn't listen to them, but he grudgingly sends a soldier to wait at the watchtowers. Fiona and Vriré go, too. Tiffany, Forgal, Trahearne and Sieran all fight the Risen until Talon is fatally injured and gives in. Tiffany is privately cheering at the fact that Forgal isn't dead, when one of the crewmembers of their ship (one of Trahearne's friends) jumps in the water to hold off the approaching Risen. Because they chase even in the water, oh yes. And Blightghast. Don't forget the fact that Blightghast is on the island. Tiffany almost did, not that it mattered.

* * *

Chapter five: Claw Island

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I'm guessing the name is fairly explanatory. Yay! _Book Four: Trinity Rising_ won't have it's name changed, oh no. The trinity will _riiise_… and that is totally _not_ foreshadowing that Zhaitan's gonna decimate the Pact and then turn them all into Risen. Tyria would be _toast_ if that happened.

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

"… no regard for anyone but themselves, any of them." Vriré explains.

"Yes," Forgal nods easily, "that does make sense, but it's the same as saying we are Elder Dragons to the ants. Don't tell me you don't wreck their hills when you find them," he challenges.

Vriré raises an eyebrow challengingly. "You're telling me you even notice the hills, as tall as you are? They don't come past my knee."

Tiffany smiles. She doesn't mind that the conversation is changing the subject - Forgal and Vriré are engaging in casual banter, which can only be good for Forgal accepting the Lightbringer despite the Order of Whispers problem. It might not lead to Forgal accepting the whole Order, but this will do for a start.

"That's my whole point," Forgal tells her. "We _don't_ notice them, and we don't care. We actually hate the ants - they're irritating. We destroy their nests. The Elder Dragons do the same. We can't use that as proof that they don't have self-awareness. In fact - "

"Why are you arguing the dragons' side?" Sieran asks.

"If we can communicate with them," Forgal replies instantly, "then we can perhaps work out some sort of mutual we-won't-kill-you agreement."

Tiffany laughs. "Good thinking!" She doesn't say that she knows at least one Elder Dragon that can 'communicate' a bit _too_ effectively. She doesn't know if Mordremoth's self-awareness is echoed in the other dragons, though.

"As I was saying…" Forgal trails off and squints into the distance - west, toward the mouth of Sanctum Harbor, but his eyes are focused much nearer.

"Forgal?" Sieran queries, looking in the same direction in confusion.

Forgal remains silent, but after a minute, he nods, and points into the water a ways off.

"Forgal, none of us can see that far," Fiona says, frowning.

"Blackwing somehow amplified his eyesight," Tiffany tells her. She had found this out from Forgal during one of their many talks once they'd broken through the intial Whispers barrier. Fiona mouths the word 'blackwing' for a moment in confusion, before remembering what Tiffany had said about Forgal's companion.

After a moment, peering hard in the same direction as Forgal, Tiffany sees a movement in the water, and points it out to the others.

A moment later, Forgal lets out a yell and jumps into the water, drawing his sword. He'd already donned his aquabreather.

In an instant, Tiffany has an arrow on the string. "Forgal, don't drown!" she calls. The plate armor on the norn would drag him down more effectively than any enemy. But the norn swims with sure strokes toward the odd disturbance in the harbor.

When he engages it, it has gotten near enough for Tiffany to identify it, and she realizes why it took her so long. It is nearly transparent, a sickly green color. Tiffany recognizes it immediately - the Orrian scout that heralds Zhaitan's attack on Claw Island.

Her arrows fly at once as Beorn jumps in the water to help out Forgal. Fiona does an illusion that makes the scout more visible in the water, and Vriré, after a moments' hesitation, follows Forgal and Beorn in to the water with a few more of Tiffany's arrows trailing streams of bubbles as they impact the Orrian menace.

Sieran, after frowning at the creature for a minute, begins drawing on the Aspect of Nature in a spell. The water around the fight begins swirling, and it quickly closes in on the enemy, preventing it from moving as well against the current. Of course, this means Tiffany's arrows are remarkably ineffective, so Fiona conjures a greatsword for her and she joins the others in the water.

Unlike the frigid pond of the Shiverpeaks, the harbor of Lion's Arch is warm in midsummer. Tiffany's blade moves through the water like nothing, weightless, solidifying only when she whacks the sickly green scout. She is not sure she can call it a Risen - it looks more ghostly than zombie-like - but 'scout' will do.

Vriré's size, normally a disadvantage on land combat, is a gift from heaven - er, the Eternal Alchemy - in the water. Her swords, not commonly used in favor of her axes, come out and she plunges them deep into the creature's body, before deflty swimming underneath and out of the way of one of the scout's clumsy swipes, and uses an axe to cut its belly open in one long cut.

Forgal's size, on the other hand, makes him the perfect target - but he's designed to be the perfect target. He keeps the monster's attention while Tiffany and Beorn, not small enough to dodge the monster's claws, are working hard at injuring and bringing the beast down.

Eventually, the Orrian scout is taken down, and the four melee attackers swim to the surface. Tiffany takes off her aquabreather and stows it in her pocket, her motion echoed by the others.

A wave sweeps them up and back on the Gangplank Bridge - a wave obviously generated by Sieran.

"What was that?" Vriré demands instantly.

Forgal's face is hard. "An Orrian scout. Last time I saw one of those, it was right before the destruction of Port Stalwart. Lion's Arch is in danger."

"In that case, we need to warn the Lionguard," Sieran exclaims.

"Let's head to Claw Island," Vriré agrees.

There are five puffs of blue, and the group arrive at the waypoint near the same ship that took Tiffany and Fiona to Claw Island on a tour so long ago.

* * *

The charr captain of the ship's crew insists obstinately that it's not time to leave yet, despite any convincings on the part of Forgal.

"Captain Shipscar," Vriré says at last, stepping forward. "It is of utmost importance that we leave for Claw Island without delay. Who knows who might be declawed if we don't."

Tiffany is impressed at the mix of threat and Whispering - Claw and declaw for the Whispers code, and the threat is obvious, masking the Whisper for anyone who is not of the Order.

Captain Shipscar looks at Vriré again. "Yes, of course, er, Vriré." The name comes out awkwardly, as if the captain was used to calling her by her title of Lightbringer.

They all board the ship, and Captain Shipscar instantly starts shouting at his crew to get them to Claw Island double-time. Tiffany hears a few Whispering opposites thrown in, but can't be sure whether this makes the crew work faster or not.

As the ship makes its way out of the harbor and toward Sorrow's Bay, the body of water separating Claw Island from Sanctum Harbor, Tiffany is getting jumpy. Anything she has done to change the world from the way it was in the original game is probably of little effect to this event; Forgal could still die.

Although she can't fathom what the world would be like without Forgal, she does know that he could very easily die. She starts rooting around in her memory for anything to help her convince Talon to abandon Claw Island early.

* * *

As they approach the dock of Claw Island, she espies another ship - not Orrian - coming around the island and heading for the dock.

Captain Shipscar scowls. "That ship's going way to fast if they're docking here, that's a safety hazard."

"We're in luck," Forgal says to the group. "Trahearne's on that ship, and if he doesn't know about the attack, I'll eat my sword."

"I'm not taking that bet," Tiffany smirks. The smirk turns to full-blown laughter at the situation. "Besides, you need your sword if we're to help fend off Risen."

The two ships come together near the dock.

"We'll wait for ye here, Trahearne," calls a voice from the other ship as Trahearne leaves it. "The _Sorrow's Prowler_ won't leave this island without ye aboard, not so long as I'm Cap'n o' this vessel."

"Don't stay too long, Seal," Trahearne warns. "This could get bad, and quickly."

"Nonsense!" calls another voice. "We'll stay right here, matey. We ain't leaving ye, and th' man that suggests it'll walk the plank!"

Trahearne shakes his head and turns to the ship holding Tiffany and the others. His face brightens when he sees them, but Forgal speaks first.

"Nice to see you, Trahearne!" the norn says as he jumps off the boat and on to the dock. "I suppose you're here about the attack as well?"

The sylvari nods. "It's good to see you, Forgal. You as well, Sieran, and Tiffany and Fiona."

Tiffany smiles. Trahearne just has that effect on everybody; even _Sieran_ is more cheerful, if that can even be possible.

When Trahearne's glance falls on Vriré, though, he frowns. "I'm afraid I don't know who you are," he tells her.

"Lightbringer Vriré, of the Order of Whispers." Vriré says, introducing herself and mentioning her affiliation clearly for the first time that day. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Kind of hard not to, you've been with us all day," Sieran tells the asura. Turning to Trahearne, she adds, "It's wonderful to see you again, but I think we should hurry and tell the Lionguard our information."

"Of course," Trahearne nods. "The Risen will be here any time - they were on our tail when we arrived."

The group of seven make their way up to the fort, and Tiffany espies the familiar form of a charr in the archway that leads into the main courtyard.

"Watch Commander Talon, we have grave news," Trahearne tells the head of the Lionguard. "A Risen attack is imminent."

"A what?" Talon laughs. "Don't be ridiculous, Trahearne! We've seen no sign of an impending attack. If there was to be one, we'd know of it."

Tiffany - and, admittedly, all the others - frown at Talon calling Trahearne ridiculous. Sieran speaks up. "Trahearne is _not_ ridiculous!" she says heatedly.

"His scout was seen in the harbors of Lion's Arch," Vriré adds. "There is no room for error."

"And Trahearne has his own information, straight from Orr, I'm assuming," Forgal puts in, "given the fact that he's just arrived."

The sylvari nods. "The Dead Ships are under a cloak of stealth, but I could feel them not far behind my own ship. "

"It can't be a real threat," Talon scoffs. "Claw Island can withstand _any_ assault. Go check on Brakk and Mira - my lieutenants - and see for yourself."

"Hey," Tiffany says, stepping forward. "Don't you think that you should listen to the expert on the matter? While you may be an expert on Claw Island, Trahearne is an expert on Risen - I wouldn't dismiss his warning so casually if I were you."

Talon huffs. "Trahearne's no soldier, civilian."

"But me and Forgal are, we agree with him," Tiffany counters. "None of us are any slouch in a fight - even Trahearne, whether he's a soldier by profession or not - but that should not be under consideration, not when we're warning you, not fighting you."

"What can you handle, anyway?" Fiona asks. "Does Zhaitan know what you can handle? Have any of your men been killed and turned to Risen?"

"Yes, but soldiers die in battle," Talon informs her.

Trahearne shakes his head. "Zhaitan knows everything its minions know, Commander Talon. If even one of your soldiers has been corrupted, Zhaitan knows the core strengths and weaknesses of this fort, as well as how many Risen and Dead Ships it will require to take Claw Island."

Talon snarls, claws snapping in, then out. "I don't care - we won't give up this fort without a fight. If you're so keen on giving a warning, you can alert Brakk and Mira."

"At least leave a soldier by the watchtower in case of emergency," Vriré says in a no-nonsense voice. Tiffany and Fiona back her up, and Forgal nods in approval.

Talon huffs. "Nobody gives me orders about _my_ soldiers - but fine. If you _excellent_ fighters are so keen to not have everything depend on you."

The six ignore the slur on their capabilities, and although Beorn radiates scorn for the charr, he follows Tiffany.

"Split up," Vriré directs, her eyes scanning the courtyard for threats.

"Tiffany and I can find this Brakk," Forgal nods.

"Sieran, we can talk to Mira," Trahearne agrees.

"Fiona and I will make sure there is an adequate force at the watchtower," Vriré volunteers.

As Tiffany and Forgal head up to the battlements, Tiffany hears a pair of Lionguard discussing the news - one is wary, one cautious, and Tiffany hopes they won't be taken by surprise.

Depuy Brakk is already prepared. "Tell the Watch Commander that the gunnery emplacements are ready. We'll be ready to fight the Orrians."

Tiffany frowns, but nods. Until the Dead Ships arrive, there is nothing but prepare that they can do - it will be exceedingly hard to convince Talon that they need to surrender until then. And denting Blightghast's small army is always a bonus.

Wait, why hadn't _any_ of them gone to fetch General Almorra while the others came to Claw Island? Why hadn't that happened originally, either? Tiffany frowns, and dismisses the issue - it's too late now.

"Ah, look," Forgal points out. "Trahearne and Sieran are dealing with Risen already. Let's help them out."

The two arrive at the beach, now strewn with Risen corpses, as Mira is questioning Trahearne about his statements that the attack would be large.

"It was a feint," Trahearne replies, a hint of frustration in his tone. "More will come - and soon."

Mira shrugs. "Makes sense. Report to Commander Talon and tell the men to be ready."

"At least someone agrees with us," Forgal rumbles. "Come on, Trahearne. Talon's a tough nut to crack, but we'll get him."

"Eventually, I have no doubt," Trahearne agrees. "Whether we do so in time is another matter."

Sieran's normally cherryful demeanour has been replaced by concern. She burns the Risen bodies to a crisp before they can rise again, and follows the others back to the fort with her face creased in worry.

Trahearne is worrying, too. "I've been studying Orrian creatures for twenty-five years, studying them and Orr, but even with all my research, we know so little about defeating them. It's pure luck every time a Dead Ship sinks, and nobody can be sure even those don't rise again."

"They have so many holes already, I'm surprised they _can_ sink," Tiffany agrees.

When they arrive back in the courtyard, Talon rolls his eyes at them. "Is that all they brought? I know you mean well, Trahearne, but that was hardly an attack, much less a cause for the amount of worry you are displaying."

"There will be more," Trahearne replies, his eyes firm. "Keep watching the sea."

"You're a scholar, not a general, Firstborn," Talon scoffs. "Why should we trust you?"

"Shut up!" Tiffany snaps. "I'm sure he could do a better job than _you_ at being in command. You won't even listen to a simple warning."

"Ohh, hit a nerve?" Talon smirks.

Tiffany raises an eyebrow in conscious slow motion, considering whether to confirm Talon's guess. Anyone calling Trahearne untrustworthy will hit a nerve, but she technically barely knows him. After a long moment, she nods. "Yes. Commanders that show such an extreme lack of respect for sound information and proven experts aren't worthy of their rank, in my book."

Talon has time for a scandalised growl before a shout comes from the wall.

"The fortress is under attack! Hostiles incoming!"

"They've breached the wall!" Brakk shouts, his shrill voice piercing the air.

"That way." Forgal points, and Tiffany sees the dark shape of a Dead Ship in the sea beyond the battlements.

"They're catapulting abominations onto the wall!" Brakk shouts. "Repel them!"

"We can do more there than we can here," Tiffany notes, and hurries up to the wall to fight.

She hadn't yet experienced abominations - or even Risen much at all - and her feelings about fighting them are quickly being torn in pieces from her game-playing idea that Risen are so fun to beat up. She gets the feeling that everyone feels that fighting them is terrifying, and she only ever heard Trahearne voice it.

The abominations are spectacularly tough - her arrows stick in its dead hide, but don't impede it any. Fiona is still with Vriré at the watchtower - she glances in the direction of the big pylon, but she can't see them - and so she can't use the illusionary sword.

Her axes come out, but the abominations are huge - their legs are as thick around as she is, and her axes don't do much. Dodging the thing's wild swings, she catches a blow on the arm and flinches back. She reconsiders the sense in attacking something that won't be harmed, and certainly can harm her.

Well, she certainly won't attack in this method. She circles around to behind the abomination, careful to keep her distance. Her circle complete, she is behind Forgal, the abomination still swinging at everything. She grimaces. Fighting prodigy, huh? Player Character?

She takes nocks an arrow, and this time takes careful aim at one of its eyes. The arrow burrows deep into the abomination's brain, and it nearly falls on a surprised Forgal.

Nodding in satisfaction, Tiffany nocks another and turns her attention to the next Risen monstrosity. Beorn and Forgal focus on keeping them away from her.

Tiffany notices Trahearne and Sieran fighting Risen abominations not too far away, and her eyebrows jump in surprise as she realizes that the Aspect of Renewal is the only Aspect that is visible just from use; while Deception charges the air with an unidentifiable charge, Nature is like a current of warm air, and Protection's presence is somehow soothing, Renewal is marked by the traditional greenish-black cloud.

Tiffany's arrows keep taking down abominations, but too slowly.

Trahearne, using the Aspect of Renewal, takes down Risen with a touch - apparently having a magical affinity with death gives one some control over the death dragon's minions - but he does have to be close enough to touch.

Now, _that_ is scary. Tiffany grimaces. Sieran keeps the abomination distracted, but in Orr, Trahearne is on his own. He either has to evade notice or deal with them in touch range. '_Trahearne isn't a fighter? Yeah, riiight. Anyone would have to be pretty good at what he does to study Orr - not to mention the fact that he's been pretty much living in a place charged with death magic._' Zhaitan's magic might not be the same as the Aspect of Renewal, but it's probably similar enough for Trahearne to know a lot about it, even if he never made it an object of study. And, since his Wyld Hunt is to cleanse the land, that is probably the main focus of his study.

After a bit, the abominations are all taken down.

"Deputy Mira's squad is pinned on the shores!" a soldier shouts at her. "She needs rescuing!"

"On it," Tiffany nods. Forgal and the two sylvari join her as they hurry to the beach. Mira is unconscious, Tiffany notes, and the ranger snipes off the Risen much more easily than the abominations, since her arrows can pierce these one's heads.

Sieran hurries over to the unconscious Lionguard, and, not taking the time to figure out her injury, simply douses the woman in deluge of healing water, waking her.

"I'm injured," Mira gasps. "Bad. Get me to Talon… I don't think we can hold out this time."

Mira leans on Tiffany's shoulder and the group returns to Talon.

"Mira!" Talon exclaims. "How stand the beaches?"

"Fallen, sir," Mira says, straightening despite her injury. "And a lot of good soldiers, too."

"We have to light the watchtowers," Forgal says firmly. "Don't argue with us, Talon, this is neccessary."

"How many did you sent to the watchtower, anyway?" Tiffany asks suspiciously. "Fiona and Vriré aren't back yet."

"I posted a soldier there, like you asked," Talon returns rebelliously. "We are _not_ letting Claw Island fall. I won't let Lion's Arch think we've lost."

Tiffany sighs. She takes a step back into the couryard, cups her hands to her mouth, and hollers wordlessly. Philipe had developed this technique for communicating when the boys had decided the woods would be the target of their adventurousness - _caw_ and _wah_ mean 'answer back so I know you're alright' and 'come back, we need you for something.' Tiffany can't ever remember which is which, and neither does Fiona.

An answering signal comes back, and Tiffany turns her head toward the watchtower. Technically, there are three of them, and she didn't know which one had the control panel.

"Light it!" she shouts, noting that it isn't far away and her voice will carry.

An acknowledging signal comes back, and a moment later, a light springs up, first in one, then another, then last watchtower.

"What did you do?" Talon snarls. Then, he shakes his head. "It doesn't matter - we'll fight on."

"Commander Talon, that is a very unwise course of action," Trahearne tells him. "We can always return later to reclaim the island, but for now, we need to leave before any more lives are lost."

"No!" Talon snarls. "Somebody get on a trebuchet and take down that Dead Ship!"

Tiffany shrugs, then turns to her friends as Fiona and Vriré arrive. "He won't listen, so we may as well try to help," she explains. "And I doubt there's just the one ship."

Trahearne nods. "We should be ready for the others. They're testing our defenses."

Tiffany nods. "I'm sure there's enough trebuchets for all of us." She turns and jogs off to find one.

The Dead Ship is stationary, still flinging Risen at the fortress. Tiffany, recalling an earlier visit to Claw Island and the instructions for how to operate the trebuchet, manages to get off a shot at the ship, but it misses. Sieran, who seems to know how to operate one better than she does, gets a shot in that takes down the ship fairly easily.

Looking at the structure of the Dead Ship, Tiffany notes that they probably sink when one of the bone-like ribs of the ship is broken.

Of course, after a moment of silence as the ship sinks, dozens more appear, seemingly rising out of the water, but that is probably just a mesmer illusion to make them seem more intimidating.

Mira is still with Talon, arguing with him. "This is no normal attack! We can't hold!"

"Claw Island has stood for nearly a hundred years! It cannot fall!"

"Yeah?" Tiffany hollers back, leaving the trebuchet to a Lionguard to operate and marching over to Talon. "And it's gonna stay up just 'cause you say it won't? That's stupid, Talon, that's really stupid. We should retreat while we can."

"So you amazing fighters can't fight after all, can you?"

"_Your_ soldiers are the ones dying," Tiffany retorts. After a pause she adds, "I don't see you fighting."

Talon roars in wounded pride and lunges at her, but a shell from one of the ships impacts, bowling the charr over.

Despite her verbal barbs, Tiffany runs over to check on him at the same time as Deputy Mira. The shell had exploded on his chest, and he is losing blood quickly. Neither Tiffany nor Mira has any healing magic, and the others are all away on the trebuchets, taking out the Dead Ships as quick as they can.

"Medic!" Mira yells at the top of her lungs, and Tiffany mentally facepalms. Of course there isn't a strong military force on the island without some healers. "We need a medic over here! Commander, you'll be alright," she adds soothingly.

"Quiet, Mira," Talon rasps faintly. "I… retreat to the - " he breaks off, coughing up some blood. Tiffany grimaces. " - the city. Tell the commodore… we did all we could…" he gives another hacking cough and falls back, his energy spent. His eyes fix on Tiffany's face and he forces a rueful smile. "Right after all," he mutters in his last breath.

"I swear, this isn't over," Mira snarls.

"The island is overwhelmed." Vriré had come over at Mira's shout for a medic. "No offense, but Talon was being stupid. We need to retreat, _now_."

Mira grimaces. "Fine." she raises her voice to a shout. "Lionguard! We need to retreat!"

The Lionguard instantly begin fighting defensively and falling back in a practiced routine.

Tiffany's friends group up with her, but she feels something is missing. She looks back out to the water where the Dead Ships are sailing, but turns back with the others with a worried frown. The Risen are closing in, and they will barely make it out in time. She breaks into a run with the others, not wanting Forgal or anyone else sacrificing themselves.

They make it to the docks alright, the Lionguard and the group together, but the ship that Tiffany and Fiona had arrived on is gone - probably departed as soon as the Dead Ships were sighted.

"Ahoy there! Told ya we'd wait, matey," says one of the crew members of the ship Trahearne had arrived on. "Looks like ye got some passengers with ya. No worries, we've got room."

Tiffany keeps glancing back. The Risen are swarming after them as the group on the docks starts boarding the ship, but she feels that something else is missing. Something… big. In her distraction, she is among the last to board. But at least they are boarded! Tiffany grins fiercely. Forgal isn't gonna die this time - nobody's gonna die. She succeeded. They might not have convinced Talon to leave, but Forgal didn't die.

Trahearne is arguing halfheartedly with one of the crew members. "You didn't have to wait," he tells them.

"Ho! Heard that? Hey, Brun, ya heard that? He said we didn't have to wait!"

"Aye, Vedd, he's obviously wrong, and he obviously knows it already," comes the muffled reply from the cabin. A charr sticks his head out. "Ye tell that lad t' shut up 'till he can think what should be comin' out his mouth. Trahearne ain't cap'n, no sir! Not yet, he isn't, and I don't want ye dead, Seal, however much o' a good one he'd be."

Trahearne is sporting a grin. "I don't want Seal dead either, Brun, much less the post of captaining you lot."

Brun roars in laughter as Tiffany looks on interestedly. She had been about to say something cool to Brun about telling Trahearne to shut up, but he doesn't seem to mind, and Tiffany is quite interested in this.

"He's right, though," another voice calls from the rigging. "Trahearne couldn't order us 'round t' save his life."

"Aye, but we'd listen even if he asked us like a landlubber, eh, Stringpole?"

"Is that what you're calling him now?" Trahearne asks.

"Sure do," Seal - a burly norn - confirms, as a sylvari drops out of the rigging.

"Aye, Stringpole it is now," she confirms with a hint of pride. "Just waitin' on 'em now t' change it to Beanpole. Then it'll be Beampole and then Mastpole. They've been working toward calling me something to do with th' rigging since I came aboard, and me only regret be that it'll leave me nature behind."

"Well, you've been predicting the eventual Stringpole since the last time I made a trip home," Trahearne points out. "If I were you, I'd start wondering if they're following your predictions, not the other way around. Did they pass up Stringnest, of did it go to Stringpole from Stringleaf?"

"Ha! No," Stringpole - or whatever her name is - laughs. "They hit Stringnest fair and square."

"So you're only changing one part of your name at a time?" Fiona asks.

Stringpole shrugs. "Aye. Easier to remember, see, and if they call me Stringnest I'll know who they're talkin' to, as oppose to if they'd go back t' callin' me Lankybark."

"That one only lasted for two weeks," Trahearne recalls.

"But it still happened," Stringpole counters. "I remember the shorter ones better."

"Ahoy, Captain!" comes a call. "Ship's ready t' sail!"

"Get her moving, then, ye scurvy sea-dog!" Seal hollers back. "Got Risen on our tail, ye know!"

Tiffany glances back at the dock. The conversation had been rather quick - the sailors talk quickly by nature - and the Risen haven't boarded them yet. But they're close, and Tiffany breaths a sigh of relief when they push off from the dock.

"Don't relax yet," Trahearne warns her. "The Risen will follow us until - "

A roar comes from the fort, and Tiffany glances that way. Her heart leaps into her throat, and she barely resists facepalming. Blightghast the Plaguebringer, of course. That's what she'd forgotten.

"Full speed ahead, mateys!" Seal roars. The Risen, true to Trahearne's word, leap into the sea after them, and as the ship picks up speed, Tiffany stumbles slightly. She sees darkness in the water, reaching toward the ship, and she unconsciously takes a step back. The ship is barely outpacing it.

"Ye think we'll make it?" Brun hollers. He'd moved to the front of the ship.

"Aye, o' course we will," Seal retorts. "Ain't nothing that can sink the _Sorrow's Prowler_, an' ye know it."

"Captain, if I may make an observation," Stringpole observes. "There are a good tonna Risen following us. We've escaped 'em more times than I care t' count, but this might be the last time."

Tiffany notes that the blackness beneath the waves is nearly upon them.

Seal roars in fury. "Yer captain swears we'll make our port, sailor, an' we'll get there! I ain't lettin' this ship sink, and I ain't lettin' no Risen mess up our passage! An' Trahearne needs t' get to Lion's Arch, an' if that don't make ye work for yer keep, nothin' will!" After a moment, he adds again, "the captain swears we'll make our port," before Tiffany realizes it is a song.

…_though the sun's burned to an ember_  
_If the Dead Ships come and the darkness falls_  
_Then we'll all go down together, O_

"Avast there!" Brun hollers, turning around. "I ain't lettin' none o' tha _Sorrow's Prowler's_ crew die to them Risen!"

"Ain't none of 'em gonna!" Seal retorts.

"Might've a problem there, captain," another sailor reports. "Th' Risen are here already!"

Brun roars, charging to the ship's railing. Tiffany glances over the side in time to step back and draw her axes as a dead corpse climbs over the side. She hacks it to pieces, and it seems to have been a minute in advance of it's fellows, but the others are coming.

"Ain't none o' ye dying!" Brun repeats. He meets Seal's eyes, then Trahearne's. "I'll hold 'em off, matey," he says stonily. As cries of protest rise around him he snaps, "Skedaddle, you fools, I can only keep for so long. An' Trahearne - next time ye see me, do me a favor and kill me good an' proper, will ya?"

The charr turns without waiting for a reply, and, gathering himself for a lunge, leaps into the water a good ten feet off the bow. The Risen instantly swarm him as the _Sorrow's Prowler_ sweeps back toward Lion's Arch.

"Turn back for him!" Seal hollers. "We ain't lettin' him drown!"

"Skedaddle, you fools!" Brun roars as he fends off the Risen with a skill born of determination and experience.

Trahearne is shocked to his core, and doesn't speak or move, he just stares after Brun as the crew of the _Sorrow's Prowler_ works to turn her back.

"Turn back, turn back!" Seal is calling frantically, his shouts echoed by Stringpole in the rigging so all can hear.

"Captain Seal," Fiona says urgently. "It's too late for him now. He can't keep them off forever, and we can't save him. We have to keep going."

Seal lets out a great, sorrow-filled sigh and closes his eyes. He nods slowly, but doesn't give the order. The crew understand anyway and direct their efforts toward going faster.

Tiffany glances at Trahearne, wondering if he's alright. Brun must have been a good friend of his - even Tiffany can't imagine telling Trahearne to shut up the way Brun did, especially to just a playful grin.

Still gazing at the sea, where the disturbance from Brun's fighting is dying down as he is dragged below the waves, Trahearne's face is determined.

_A sailor's life's fill with toil and strife_  
_The sea's both boon and bane, O_

Stringpole joins in.

_We're Kryta bound on a northern tide_  
_Through the lightning and the rain_

Tiffany decides it's a beautiful song as Seal adds his voice to the song.

_We'll sail through all these stormy nights_  
_Till we're at home again, O_

For the next verses, all the sailors and even a few of the Lionguard join in. Tiffany picks up the melody and hums along, despite not knowing the words.

_Now the darkness comes and the stars above_  
_Circle 'round like sharks at sea, O_  
_Instead of fighting for our lives_  
_Should be sitting at our ease_  
_But I chose the strife of a sailor's life_  
_And the ocean, she chose me, O_

_You don't know a storm 'till you ride the wind_  
_'Neath cold and blackened skies, O_  
_'Till you're sailing through a thunderhead_  
_With the lightning in your eyes_  
_Death, he laughs in the sails and the jags_  
_And the bloody sun won't rise, O_

_The sails are rent and the engine's blown_  
_The keel is split to stern, O_  
_Lost the rudder to the tide_  
_And the mizzenmast is burning_  
_The rain's like nails and harbor's - _

They stop abruptly, but Seal clears his throat and goes on.

_And the compass spins and turns, O_

_Open sea and we're homeard bound_  
_Fair or foul the weather, O_  
_The captain swears we'll make our port_  
_Though the sun's burned to an ember_  
_If the Dead Ships come and the darkness falls…_

Again they stop, but everyone knows that line already anyway. The crew are all a bit teary-eyed - the only reason they have open sea is because of Brun's sacrifice.

_The wind, it howled and the thunder boomed_  
_Thought the storm might just prevail, O_  
_But we shouldered on till the break of day_  
_And we tamed the fearsome gale._  
_Held to courage and to honor_  
_And…_

The song falters, but Stringpole keeps it going, getting a startled look but then dawning realization from Seal, and they all join in for the last line - much slower, but the same melody and words as a past one.

_And we lived to tell the tale, O_

_No, you don't know a storm 'till you ride the wind_  
_'Neath cold and blackened skies, O_  
_'Till you're sailing through a thunderhead_  
_With the lightning in your eyes_  
_Death, he laughs in the sails and the jags_  
_And the bloody sun won't rise, O_

They all trail off into silence, and Tiffany gets the feeling the song is done. Then, Stringpole starts it again, but the verses are rearranged.

As they loop through the song again, and yet another time, Tiffany picks up the words. She understands that they are singing this song to honor Brun in some way, but she sings along anyway. Brun was one of Trahearne's friends, and Tiffany feels a strange kinship with the sacrificial charr.

Of course, then she realizes that, despite all her trouble to get them off the island so nobody would die, somebody still died. Tiffany snarls in frustration as Claw Island disappears into the distance, Blightghast still flying above it.

Somebody _still died_. It wasn't Forgal this time… but does that matter? Somebody still died. Less than if they hadn't stayed behind, but still. Tiffany feels… _responsible_ for Brun's death. She could've done so much more - she could've yelled at Talon, she could've lit the watchtowers earlier, she could've done any number of things - told somebody about her future knowledge, even! She'd liked Brun, the five minutes she'd seen of him, and he was Trahearne's friend as well. That carries more than a little weight with her. She's not crying or anything, but she feels like she knew him a bit… and she can't help but highly respect people who die to save their fellows.

It was her fault, though. Somebody died.

She grimaces. '_Well, I'll just have to get the Pact on the road, then._' A smile - slightly feral - graces her lips at the thought. She's been looking forward to the Pact - and the harbinger of Claw Island - since forever. '_Zhaitan won't know what hit it._' For a moment she refrains from speaking the thought aloud, but she decides to once she realizes that it won't be revealing anything about her future knowledge.

Trahearne nods firmly in agreement, and Tiffany suddenly has an epiphany. Trahearne had said many times that he was no general, or soldier, and yet he still accepted the mantle of the Pact's leader. In the original timeline, Forgal had died, but Forgal and Trahearne had been close, as well. Perhaps the deaths were - and maybe are - what made - and maybe will make - Trahearne agree to it when the Pact was - and will be - formed.

She'd wondered about that occasionally. Why Trahearne had accepted the role so easily; and she had never been able to figure it out. Now she knows.

Well. She won't disappoint the future. The Pact was the PC's idea, and that is Tiffany and Fiona now. As the _Sorrow's Prowler_ docks in Lion's Arch, Tiffany vows that she will do everything in her power to see Blightghast dead and the Pact on the path to Orr.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Ohhh I have been planning this chpater for _so long_. So long, in fact, that I had everything except the actual fight on Claw Island mapped out. Yes, I've been planning Brun's introduction and death for a while now.

It started as an excuse to introduce the song (more on that later) but then it evolved. I wanted it to be at least disturbing or something, so I went for introducing him and fleshing out his relationship with the crew and the crew's relationship with Trahearne before killing him, so it didn't go 'random sailor dies and Trahearne is distraught!' The old rule of 'show, don't tell' you know. I hope I did it alright.

The song, yes! It's called _Weather the Storm_ and you can find it in the novel _Sea of Sorrows_. I messed up the order of the verses because I figured saiors probably don't care about the order. Ree Soesbee, the composer of it, never put a melody to it, but some fans did, and I listen to Step's version on YouTube. (Ree Soesbee also commented on it saying how awesome it is, and it won a fan-made contest for who could produce the best melody, so it's good in my book.) I did leave out a verse, but here it is:

_She's a restless sloop with a six-armed maid_  
_A-dancing on her prow, O_  
_Her brassy cannons crease the sea_  
_But the weather's chased her down_  
_Her compass spins and her captain screams_  
_And the crew's all dead and drowned, O_

I figured it's a fairly obscure verse, given that it's about a very specific ship from the novel and sailors probably wouldn't care about it too much, so I left it out of the rendition in the story. Also, Brun died specifically so that the crew all dying _wouldn't_ happen, so that too. I did come up with an alternate line about the Dead Ships. The original:

_If the Dead Ships come and the darkness falls_  
_Then we'll all go down together, O_

My version, because I like it:

_If the Dead Ships come and the darkness falls_  
_Then we'll bring them down together, O_

I decided it fit the Pact vs Zhaitan arc of the personal story better than the other. (Also, I hate Zhaitan and all things Risen.)

Anyway! How'd you like the chapter? I wrote it in a shorter time than most, but I split it over two days. I just really liked it. How'd you like the interesting thing going with Stringpole's name(s)?

Ahoy there! Don't go yet, matey! How'd ya like me pirate slang? It were hard, ye know. On the other hand, keeping Trahearne in character was surprisingly easy… Tiffany's going to realize something that _I_ would have noticed immediately. She's been in Tyria for six months, and it was real life for her. So she's not _quite_ exactly me anymore, despite starting out as me.

Fiona, don't get on me for naming him Brun. I almost named him Broud, and wouldn't that be quite wrong of me? /smirk


	6. Chapter 6: Impending Doom

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Tiffany and Forgal report to General Almorra, Fiona and Sieran report to Gixx, and Trahearne and Vriré report to Agent Riel. A Whispers meeting is held, and Vriré, her students and Trahearne are sent to watch Fort Marriner. All but Vriré go in to help the Vigil fight Risen, until Destiny's Edge come and tell Tiffany that they're going to kill Blightghast. Tiffany gets the Spar warband to help keep the Risen off of the legendary group, and gets a frontline view of another Destiny's Edge takedown of a dragon champion. They have won, so why does Tiffany feel like the world is ending? She doesn't know, but it is making her uneasy.

* * *

Chapter six: Impending Doom

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I am _soo_ excited for this story arc!

This chapter fought me harder than anything else, ever. /sigh

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

"At ease, Warmasters."

Tiffany blinks to hear herself and Forgal referred to both as Warmasters. It's just a tad disconcerting, even after all this time. She feels much more like a Warmaster than she had when she was first promoted - fighting with charr for eight weeks, it's kind of hard not to. A longbow, despite being her weapon of choice, isn't a very versatile weapon - but she herself is flexible and prepared to make up for it. She has her daggers, her axes, and Fiona's conjured blade, all of which she is quite proficient at using. She doesn't, in her opinion, quite live up to the 'Warmaster' title unless she is up-close, but that could also have to do with Forgal being her main example of a Warmaster… and that brings her back to realizing that, officially, she's as good as Forgal at something, and it is slightly disconcerting.

As Forgal tells General Almorra about the events at Claw Island, she realizes that the fact that Forgal is alive, post-Claw Island, is slightly disconcerting to think about, but she is quite happy. Weird is good, in this scenario - and she breaths weirdness.

She smiles as she realizes that her - admittedly fading - memories of the Claw Island story arc will come into some semblance of a parallel - she can't think of any reason that Forgal remaining alive would have much impact on the events to come.

Except the Pact. Forgal's animosity and severe distrust of the Order of Whispers are suddenly alarming to Tiffany, even more than before - she'd never thought that far ahead. If Forgal speaks against the alliance of the Orders, Tiffany realizes a great problem could arise. She just hopes the budding six-way friendship - her, Fiona, Beorn, Sieran, Vriré and Forgal - will help soften some of the old norn's wounds.

Tiffany realizes she probably should speak to Forgal about her ideas beforehand, just to clear the air. Otherwise, there is no telling what Whispers scheme he might suspect her of being up to.

At the conclusion of Forgal's report, the General nods. "Thank you, Forgal. I want you and Warmaster Tiffany on standby while I organize a few squads to deal with any incursions of Risen. I would appreciate it if you could help the evacuation effort within the city until I have need of you."

"Of course, General," Tiffany says. She'd never thought much about what the civilians of Lion's Arch had been doing when Blightghast threatened in-game, but now that she does, she realizes that the chance of innocents to murdered by the dozen is less than satisfactory.

* * *

"But your leave isn't up until next Friday!" Gixx protests. "Why are you back here?"

"An urgent situation has arisen in Lion's Arch, Steward Gixx," Fiona reports.

"Emphasis on the a_risen_ portion," Sieran puts in.

"Ah," Gixx nods. "I see. Do you care to elaborate?"

"Risen attacked Claw Island and drove the Lionguard back to the city," Fiona summarizes. "Tiffany and Forgal are talking to General Almorra, so I'm sure the Vigil will have the threat under control, but Sieran wanted to check and make sure there was nothing the Priory could do."

"Ah, but I know just the thing!" Gixx exclaims. He pauses for a moment. "Magister Fiona, I understand that your interactions with various members of the Priory have been limited, and that you have seen only the scholarly and explorative sides of our organization. However, the Priory is a hardy lot - dealing with cursed artifacts designed to summon unpleasantries tends to do that - and most of us are fairly well-versed in combat, particularly our Explorers - such as you and Sieran - and of course our charr members know a thing or two as well. Explorers do tend to be the most islolatory type, though - generally going in pairs, as you two did - so I completely understand your lack of knowledge regarding Priory methodology outside of yourselves."

Fiona smiles, but cuts off the asura before he launches on more of a lecture about things that will derail further and further from the original topic as he goes on. "So, what was your idea?" she asks.

"Ah, yes!" Gixx nods. "I believe you are acquainted with Tribune Brimstone - or at least some of his associates. A charr warband recovered an idol of Balthazar, human god of - " Gixx cuts off, blinking. "Well, I believe you know more about Balthazar than I do, so I will desist. As I was saying, the charr are in possession of this artifact at the moment, but Tribune Brimstone owes me a favor… and it's too dangerous to keep lying around."

"How can we use it?" Fiona asks interestedly.

"Well, Balthazar is - or was, depending on which terminology you prefer - the god of blood and buttkicking."

Fiona stifles a snort at the less than polite way of referring to the fiery god, but she doesn't care in the slightest, despite some of her Tyrian memories rebuking her slightly. Gixx doesn't notice and continues right on talking.

"Therefore, this idol is imbued with an extremely potent combative transformation. The more you kill, the more powerful you become… at least, so says the research of the team currently studying it in the Black Citadel. Everything has a limit, you see. But I digress; I shall speak to Tribune Brimstone about retriving the idol. I shall find somebody to utilize it - of course, one of you two will get first pick - and we can deploy against the Risen. We'll show the Vigil that knowledge beats power. It is risky, though…"

"What sort of risky?" Fiona asks cautiously, at the same time as Sieran squeals excitedly.

"Ooh, that sounds fun!" she exclaims. "Come on, Gixx, let me try it! I'm sure it'll be cherry, and it'll get rid of some nasty Risen, too!"

Fiona suppresses an amused grin at Sieran's predictable enthusiasm.

"The, ah… it inflicts a cost on your soul. If you are not strong enough, it will consume you."

Fiona's eyes fly open wide. "What type of 'strong enough?' Does it eat a part of my soul no matter what, or is the excess of that what causes this consumption?"

"Cautious - I like that," Gixx nods. "You'll have a good influence on Sieran. Anyway - no, if you are strong enough to avoid being destroyed, your soul will remain intact. Strong enough… I am not sure, however, I imagine it involves something along the lines of retaining your sense of self; not falling prey to the temptation to become, in effect, a minion of Balthazar. Apparently, you could become a ravaging, blood-crazed psychopath if you can't hold on to your identity properly."

Fiona is not sure exactly what she wants to do; she doesn't want to risk losing her soul or being taken over by magic that seems quite as potent as any Elder Dragon's, and yet, allowing Sieran a shot at it might be a worse disaster.

As Gixx babbles on about various events surrounding the idol, she adds another concern to her list; how using an _idol_ for this transformation would affect the vast confusion surrounding her personal spiritual/religious life. She does have to consider that it is the intent that matters, and it's not like she's _worshipping_ the idol or anything - although, if it threatens to eat her soul, she might find this particular aspect of her life messed up a bit. Not something she wants to happen, and yet, if Sieran is allowed a shot at it, that could prove irrevocable harm. Sieran certainly would not take well to becoming a blood-crazed… well, anything.

Particularly if Fiona then has to put her down afterwards. Sieran is a trusting, bubbly person - anything that tried to take her over might not face much resistance… Fiona suddenly finds herself wondering if she should let Sieran do it as preparation for Mordremoth.

"How exactly is the idol used?" she asks, interrupting one of Gixx's explanations about how the Mane warband had recovered it.

"Ah, it is quite simple," Gixx explains. "As you hold the idol, a ritual is performed and it transforms into a fiery sword and grants you quite a lot of flame-related magics, even if you've never had the slightest tendency toward the appropriate Aspect in your life. Afterwards, it transforms back into an idol and loses its enchantment. The human god of mass murder doesn't like using the same tactic twice."

Fiona frowns. "So if the person using the enchantment shows signs of turning into a blood-crazed something-or-other, you could, theoretically, take the flaming sword out of their hands and it would completely end the ritual? Ah, how does the ritual end normally?"

Gixx frowns. "Actually, I do not know. I would assume it wears off after a while, though…"

Fiona's frown only deepens. "This idol seems extremely unsafe to me."

"Rubbish!" Sieran declares. "It sounds positively fascinating, and I can't wait to try it out."

Fiona's eyes widen in alarm. "Sieran, it really is unsafe. I couldn't stand to see you turned into a blood-crazed thing that I'd have to deal with."

"Oh, I'm sure I can handle it!" Sieran assures her.

Fiona groans, but comes up with a happy solution. "Fire and plants do _not_ go well together, Sieran. You'll be crisped if you do try. I get the feeling that the idol was intended for use by a human…"

"Well-reasoned, Magister!" Gixx exclaims. "I never even considered that. You are correct; while the idol might simply refuse to work on, say, a charr or asura, sylvari - and norn, too - are similar enough to humans that it might _attempt_ to work and simply fail. I'm afraid I cannot allow that risk, Sieran."

Fiona sighs in relief.

"However, Magister Fiona, while I won't force you, I can't think of any human more capable of at least trying the idol."

Fiona sighs in exasperation. "That also means that, if I fail, you've just lost your best human Magister," she points out. "And I also don't particularly feel like messing with idols and soul-devouring magics."

"I commend you for your caution, Magister," Gixx frowns. "And I will adhere to your decision, but the Risen - "

"Tiffany and the Vigil will deal with them," Fiona says firmly. "They're not a bad lot, honestly, and we could do better finding a _different_ powerful magical artifact to use. Did Scholar Josir ever perfect that Mortis Verge device, and is there a similar, more offensive version?"

"Oh, good thinking, Magister!" Gixx exclaims. "Yes, I will check in with Josir right away. And I'll make sure the team studying that idol doesn't do anything foolish. I'll call for you when I know more."

Fiona and Sieran leave the room, with the sylvari apparently deep in thought. Fiona notes that such an expression on Sieran's face. Sieran takes most things at face value and is quite cheerful about everything; a _thoughtful_ Sieran, while not bad, is more than a little odd. But Fiona doesn't say anything, and Sieran doesn't speak either, so she lets it drop.

* * *

"So, Trahearne," Vriré says after a moment of silence as the two walk through the Chantry of Secrets. She had been rather surprised that he has access to and knows about the Chantry's inner chambers, but he seems to have… special relationships within the Order. Not surprising. "I believe you are acquainted with the Preceptors?"

"I am," the sylvari confirms.

"Good. While I have a reputation in the Order, I have rarely spoken to them, and demanding an audience alone would be quite presumptuous. However, I'm sure they'll listen to you."

"I'm sure that, with news of the nature that we are bringing them, they would not mind a bit of presumptuousness," Trahearne replies.

Vriré shrugs. "I like being able to work from a firm grounding. On the subject of all things Orrian, you are, most likely, the most learned scholar in Tyria, and not many will be able to refute anything you say on the subject." The fact that Vriré had to put in the 'not many' still rankles the asura; Watch Commander Talon was a supreme idiot that probably got a lot of good Lionguard - not to mention that sailor - killed.

"I understand," Trahearne agrees.

Vriré suppresses a smile (quite easily, too - she has a very firm grip on her outward emotions). She may not have ever met Trahearne before, but she had studied his file quite intensely alongside those of Destiny's Edge. He rarely shows it, and she is not far how deep it is rooted or how much it affects him, but he seems to be proud of his research. He seems a bit unable to control talking about his studies in any environment conductive to the subject, and he makes no attempts at false modesty when it is explained that his knowledge is superior to anyone else's.

But that is to be expected; he really is quite versed in Orrian lore, and is the source of most all the information the Order has about it that does not date back to the days before it sank. The lack of false modesty is as far as it goes, however, unless he happens to be in a conductive environment, which is more than Vriré can say of most people, even speculatively.

Half of this information she had gathered by watching him; but only because she knew what to look for.

"Ah, Trahearne! I knew I'd be seeing you soon," a voice says cheerily.

"Glad to see you, Riel," Trahearne agrees.

Agent Riel nods in greeting. "And you're Lightbringer Vriré, right? Glad you're both here - to confirm, I assume, the rumors that there are Risen at Claw Island?"

"Yes," Trahearne informs her. "There is also a dragon champion by the name of Blightghast the Plaguebringer."

So it is true. Vriré had guessed - dragons generally aren't simple minions - but it is nice to have it confirmed.

Agent Riel frowns. "We'll need all our agents to deal with this. I'll call all operatives immediately. Lightbringer, can you check the archives and summon those that can't Whisper yet?"

"Yes, Agent Riel," Vriré nods. While technically lower-ranked than herself, Riel is the personal attaché to the Preceptors, and often acts in their stead if they are too busy.

"Alright, we'll meet up in the Central Plaza, near the Mystic Forge, as soon as possible. Got it?"

"Understood, Agent Riel," Vriré nods. "I'm on it."

"Trahearne, I'd appreciate if you could be there, as well," Riel requests, turning to the sylvari.

Trahearne nods. "I'll be there, Riel."

"Great. I'll inform the Preceptors and gather the Whispering operatives."

Hearing the dismissal in Riel's tone, the two messengers depart.

* * *

Tiffany is at the Central Plaza with Vriré and Fiona, waiting for the rest of the Whispers agents to arrive. There are already quite a few; Tiffany recognizes Ihan, and Fiona points out Bor and even Cydwenn. The captain of the ship they'd taken to Claw Island is grumbling to himself, and Trahearne is here, as well - he seemed slightly surprised to see her and Fiona, but he seems to understand the Whispers policy of having members _everywhere_, and, lacking that, contacts.

She notices Fiona fiddling with her A-Key, blinking rapidly. "**The number of auras here is overwhelming,**" Fiona confides in a whisper. "**I'm turning down the range and intensity.**"

Tiffany nods. She wishes she could have an A-Key - it seems quite useful, not to mention interesting. But now that the Claw Island arc is happening, she is sure she'll never make it to Agent before the Pact is formed and she's Commander - or maybe Fiona will be Commander. Or maybe both. Or neither; they might've changed things enough for that to have changed. She certainly hopes it's not neither.

After a while, a sylvari steps forward.

"**I've never seen an aura like that before,**" Fiona notes. "**It's a light blue.**"

"I am Preceptor Valenze," the sylvari tells them. "We have a situation. Claw Island has come under attack by Risen, and is now being held by one of Zhaitan's champions, Blightghast the Plaguebringer. It is only a matter of time before they move on to Lion's Arch, so we need to move quickly. The Vigil are mustering at Fort Marriner and the Durmand Priory are searching for anything in their archives that might help, but they are expecting a direct attack. The Risen are sneaking in by twos and threes, going along the canals and coming up by the docks. We need to exterminate them, and quickly. Each Lightbringer will patrol a different portion of the city. If you're a Lightbringer and you don't have a student to bring with you, find an Agent."

She then rattles off a list of names and places, assigning different Lightbringers to different portions of the city. Finally, when most of the Lightbringers have cleared out to go on their assignments, she gets to Vriré.

"Lightbringer Vriré, keep an eye on the Vigil forces at Fort Marriner. We need to know what they're doing as soon as they do it, and your students will be a spectacular help in that area."

Tiffany is beginning to wonder if she'll be _able_ to remain loyal to the Vigil first, if this keeps up. At least it doesn't have to for long - the Pact will happen soon. She forgets half the things that had happened in this story arc in the game, and she is more than halfway trusting that she hasn't changed things too much. She does know that visiting the Pale Tree is a part of it, and that the Pact doesn't happen until after - what she doesn't remember is how much intiative she has to show to keep history on the right track.

Vriré nods, and she and her students waypoint out, one by one.

* * *

A moment after they are all there, Trahearne arrives as well. "Preceptor Valenze thought it would be a good idea if I accompanied you," he explains.

"Yes, most likely," Vriré agrees. "Initiate Tiffany, you should join your allies inside. Agent Fiona, can you accompany her without arousing suspicion?"

"Of course. She and I are rarely seen apart," Tiffany says easily. "You've even been here once, do you - "

"Not now that Forgal knows what I am," Vriré replies. "I'll be your outside contact in case things go wrong."

"You're talking like I'm walking into a lion's den. I'm a Vigil Warmaster, they won't hurt me," Tiffany reassures her.

Vriré sighs. "You _are_ walking into a lion's den. The moment they realize that you're Whisperers, you'll be gone."

Tiffany pauses a moment. "General Almorra already knows," she says after a minute.

"She what?" Vriré snaps. "How could she - "

"I told her," Tiffany hurries to explain. "I wasn't about to accept promotion to Warmaster until she knew who she was promoting. I don't like secrets, and I like sneaking behind General Almorra's back even less."

Vriré sighs. "I can't believe you ever decided to join the Order," she sighs. "I want you to understand that you are being extremely controversial. No Whispers Agent in the history of the Order has told the person whose organization they're infiltrating that they're infiltrating. It's _stupid_."

"Not when I'm loyal to the Vigil first," Tiffany replies quietly.

Vriré grimaces. "Very well."

"I'll stand with you," Trahearne tells Tiffany, who smiles gratefully.

The four - including Beorn - head inside Fort Marriner, and Tiffany finds General Almorra giving a rallying speech to the Vigil soldiers. The General catches Tiffany's eye and nods.

"The Risen of Orr will not stop us now," the General continues. "We will hold back the tide until Zhaitan grows weary of our indomitable spirit, and then we shall march on Claw Island and take back what is ours!"

The soldiers cheer, and Tiffany is wearing a feral smile. General Almorra's encouraging speech reminds her of Trahearne rallying the Pact to stand against Zhaitan, and she gets the sudden urge to look and see if he is taking notes. Her grin only intensifies when she thinks about the Pact, and she finds herself impatient to get a move on and do it already.

General Almorra turns and leads the Vigil out on to the beach, where Risen are dragging themselves out of the water. She lets out a battle cry and charges into the undead, the Vigil on her heels.

Tiffany's axes come out smoothly and she settles into a defensive stance, Beorn and Trahearne at her side and Fiona a few steps back, preparing herself to work her magic.

The Risen wave greets them with dead hands, and Tiffany's axes spin and twirl; she is in her element. Beorn's paw swipes at one, sending it spinning in Tiffany's direction, and she skewers its brain on the dagger in her elbow. A Risen to her right falls to the green aura of the Aspect of Renewal, and an illusory sword pops out of the ground, felling the one that had been about to stab Beorn.

Her axe cleaves the head of one while she kicks another forward, sending two more toppling in a heap that is promptly slain by another illusory sword. Beorn leaps past her and tackles one that Trahearne hadn't noticed, earning the bear a greatful nod from the sylvari as Tiffany's axe chops a leg off and Fiona confuses it into stumbling away from them.

Tiffany notices the Spar warband a ways off down the beach, and smiles. This is her life. She fights Risen side-by-side with her friends and allies. All is right with the world when she can do this - she relaxes and lets herself flow through the movements of battle with ease. At times like this, she can clear her mind and focus on the battle, ignoring all worries and concerns.

* * *

Tiffany turns at the sound of her name. "Logan?" she asks in surprise, before seeing that he has Destiny's Edge with him. "What are you all doing here?" she asks, even though she gets the feeling she knows.

"We're going to take down another dragon champion," Eir says determinedly.

Tiffany looks at Destiny's Edge, standing together. It warms her heart to see them there - all working toward the same objective without a quarrel. She smiles, despite the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. "I wish you luck," she tells them. "If you need it, I can get a squad to keep the Risen out of your way while you focus on Blightghast."

By this time, Fiona and Trahearne had noticed the legendary group.

Eir nods. "That would be very helpful, thank you," she agrees.

"I've never seen Destiny's Edge in action," Trahearne remarks. "Do you mind if I accompany you?" he says to Tiffany.

"Not at all," Tiffany grins. Then she recalls the Whispers assignment to keep an eye on the Vigil, and wonders how to do this. Then, she remembers something. "We'll meet you there," she tells Eir.

The norn nods and turns, leading Destiny's Edge away.

Tiffany turns to Fiona. "Fiona, can you see any Whispers members in all this? I doubt we're the only ones."

Fiona scans the beach. "None. But I'd assume they were all called to the meeting and reassigned temporarily, like us. I can alert Vriré that we're helping Destiny's Edge - she can watch Fort Marriner just as easily from the outside. You get the Spar warband and find Forgal in all this battle, we'll meet up at the docks."

"On it," Tiffany nods. As Fiona dashes off, she makes her way to where the Spar warband is fighting. Beorn bounds off to find Forgal, and Trahearne goes to tell General Almorra what they are doing. After shooting a Risen that had been about to stave in Aelius's skull, she finally gets close enough to speak to them.

"Hey, Aelius!" she shouts over the noise of battle.

the charr turns toward her. "Warmaster Tiffany, good to see you! What brings you here?"

"New assignment - we're heading to Claw Island to keep the Risen off of Destiny's Edge while they work their magic."

"By Smodur, I knew hanging around with you was a flaming good idea!" Aelius roars. "Spar warband, to me!"

Beorn returns with a slightly worried-looking Forgal on his heels. Tiffany sends appreciation through the link and turns to Forgal, but he speaks first.

"There you are! I've been looking for you since the Risen started coming," he says. "Where were you?"

"We were here," Tiffany replies. "We were fighting the Risen too, probably just in a different place than you. Anyway, Destiny's Edge is going after Blightghast, and I told them I'd get a Vigil squad to hold back the Risen. So far it's me, Fiona, Trahearne, and the Spar warband. You in?"

"Of course, you little pipsqueak," Forgal laughs. "Only you would ask such a thing."

"Let's go, then," Tiffany smiles. The team heads back through Fort Marriner, where Trahearne and Fiona join them, and meet Destiny's Edge at the dock.

"All ready, Tiffany?" Logan asks.

"Yep. The Spar warband are good at what they do," Tiffany nods. "I suppose you are ready?"

"Of course we are," Rytlock huffs. "We'd be fools not to be."

Eir smiles. "Let's go."

They all board the ship - Captain Shipscar had been sent by Vriré, apparently, to fulfil his office - whose crew seems extremely uneasy at sailing back to Claw Island, an unease that is alleviated (but not much) by who their passengers are.

If Tiffany remembers correctly, the passage takes about fifteen minutes. She notices Trahearne standing in the bow, looking over the sea at their destination, and she makes her way over to him.

She guesses (correctly) what he is thinking about. "We'll beat up Blightghast and then find a way to deal with Zhaitan," she tells him. "That dragon has been the cause of too much misery."

Trahearne nods. "My Wyld Hunt is to cleanse Orr, and in that pursuit the crew of the _Sorrow's Prowler_ has been of great aid in my travels from Claw Island to that cursed land. They would not have been in harm's way had they not aided me - I cannot help but feel culpable for Brun's death."

"I know what you mean," Tiffany says, even though she only knows it in a vaguer sense. She had felt quite at fault for Trahearne's death in the game, and even though it had been blunted by common sense (a part of her quite locked away in the back of her head by the time she came to Tyria), she had still felt it. "Rest assured that it is not your fault - he chose to hold back the Risen. He didn't have to - it could easily have been your or I that decided our companions' lives were worth the sacrifice - but he did. That was his choice, Trahearne, and as long as free will remains, it will be - his and whoever else decides to put themselves in the way of death." Tiffany feels quite silly telling Trahearne, of all people, about free will, but Mordremoth hasn't happened yet. "The best we can do is honor Brun's sacrifice and avenge him. He let us escape so that we could return and slay Blightghast - and that is what we are doing."

Trahearne is silent for a moment, but then he looks at her. "Thank you, Tiffany."

That is all he says before he resumes watching Claw Island draw closer, but it puts a lump in Tiffany's throat. It probably would have even if the subject had been vastly different - as it is, she cannot help but feel that this thank-you is not exactly how Trahearne means it. He means 'thank you for encouraging me,' but Tiffany thinks it means 'thank you for understanding sacrifice,' which, of course, includes his own at some never-gonna-happen point in the future.

Tiffany, guessing that he might want to be alone, slips away. She finds Fiona and Logan telling the others about pretending to be Big Nose Ted and his lackeys for Commander Serentine to 'rescue.' Tiffany listens, but doesn't speak, still thinking over the conversation with Trahearne.

She does notice that she is relatively immune to people mentioning 'Commander ' - she'd noticed it especially earlier, around Watch Commander Talon - except Trahearne. The few times he'd said 'Commander' instead of 'Watch Commander' she'd almost flinched. Well.

* * *

Captain Shipscar sails away as soon as Destiny's Edge and the Vigil contingent disembark, but nobody seems to care. When they need to leave, turning off the warning beacons should be enough of a signal that Blightghast has been defeated.

They are instantly besieged by Risen, but the group easily cuts through them. When they reach the arch that leads to the courtyard, Eir stops and surveys the scene. Blightghast is flying around above them, and Risen swarm the courtyard.

"Vigil," Forgal instructs, "cut into those Risen."

The Vigil - plus Trahearne and Fiona - enter the fray, killing Risen left and right. Meanwhile, Eir is giving instructions to Destiny's Edge, and soon they join the battle, but with the express goal of the wall that Blightghast had wrecked upon its earlier entrance.

Tiffany is high-strung and nervous. Rather than the normal mental relaxation that fighting Risen normally gives her, she finds herself worrying. The timing is different - in the game, Blightghast wasn't attacked until several days after the Risen took the island - and there aren't nearly so many people, either. The whole Pact helped last time, and while Destiny's Edge is certainly capable, especially with Vigil to back them up, Tiffany can't help but worry.

The worrying is bad for her nerves, especially mid-battle, and she finds herself with numerous small injuries, and many more close misses. They don't slow her down much, though - the team has plenty of healing, from Deorar's healing water skills to Celsus' guardian abilities - and Tiffany continues fighting through the Risen. She does keep a careful eye on Destiny's Edge, who have made their way to the broken-down wall.

There are a _lot_ of Risen. Tiffany is beginning to wonder if the extra people aren't enough, when Eir nocks three arrows and lets fly at Blightghast. They explode against the dragon's underbelly, causing the champion to roar in pain, and Tiffany recognizes the tactic used against Kralkatorrik, just without the explosion from crystallized dragon blood embedded in the arrowheads.

Tiffany is almost caught off-guard by a Risen, but Beorn smashes its head, and Tiffany rejoins the battle.

Blightghast roars, and Tiffany glances over; Big Zojja's cannons are connected to the dragon via thick ropes. Logan and Rytlock each grab a rope and start pulling, and Blightghast flies in crazy circles like a kite out of control while it is reeled in.

Tiffany refocuses on the battle, an arrow taking out a Risen abomination that had been about to crush Shadow, Augurna's companion.

Arrows fly over the battlefield - Tiffany is mostly taking out those that can't be dealt with but post a threat - while Beorn fights at Trahearne's side as the necromancer takes out Risen instantly, one by one. Trahearne steps back from an abomination, Renewal gathering at his fingertips, but he is not fast enough. At Beorn's signal to Tiffany, she glances over, an arrow on the string, and fires. The arrow thuds into the creature's eye, giving Trahearne time to finish the spell. The oversized Risen slumps, dead before it hits the ground.

Tiffany glances at Destiny's Edge once again. Blightghast isn't far above the ground. Logan and Rytlock hold the ropes that seem to have detached from Big Zojja's cannons as she fires again, and again. The ropes are secured to the ground somehow - Tiffany is too far away to see how - and Destiny's Edge move in to attack.

Tiffany hopes they dont' underestimate the dragon. She doesn't remember how killing Blightghast went originally, but she knows Blightghast is dangerous. And, despite never having seen them work together, _Edge of Destiny_ pains a vivid picture, and now Destiny's Edge seems… smaller… without Snaff. Tiffany knows the group would look more complete with another Big there.

Tiffany, despite the doubts, turns her attention back to the fight. She switches to axes and charges in, cleaving Risen heads and skewering Risen skulls. A shadow falls over her, and Tiffany looks up to see a Risen abomination towering over her, its club raised to strike.

Tiffany whirls around, axes flying furiously and trying to do some damage to the abomination before it hits her, but it topples for another reason.

Beorn had executed a running jump and landed on the beast's shoulders before biting off the misshapen head. Tiffany's slick shock, surprise and gratitude flow through the bond as she whirls around to re-kill another Risen. Expression is what counts; Tiffany's face doesn't register her shock, and she doesn't act surprised. It's all expressed mentally, and Beorn returns obligation and Tiffany and instinctive terror and then the mix that means 'us two.'_'Of course I helped,_' the combination tells her, '_I couldn't not - it's a natural result of the companion bond._'

Tiffany returns amusement and that instinctive terror, with a questioning touch. '_You made up a new word, huh? Why is 'natural' instinctive terror?_'

Beorn sends her a tiny drop of apology - it's the mental equivalent of shrugging his shoulders - and haste. '_It's the first thing I thought of._' Then, another feeling - the feeling that means continue, but with a touch of wrongness. '_As to what were talking about earlier,_' the gesture says, before re-sending a hasty version of the emotions that created 'o_f course I helped. I couldn't not - it's a natural result of the companion bond_' to tell her what 'earlier' means. Then, after a deliberate pause, he sends Tiffany again. Just 'Tiffany' - all that Beorn sees as Tiffany. He loves her. He's her companion, her constant friend. Tiffany is loyal to him and firm in her beliefs and dedicated to her people, and Beorn loves her for it. She is Beorn's companion and friend, inseparable fighting partners, and Beorn will never leave her side. The concern he feels when she is injured, the desperation to prevent her from being hurt, and the intense fear of anything he can't protect her from. '_Besides, you're Tiffany._'

Tiffany sends amusement paired with the new word Beorn had found, before returning Beorn and all that he means to her - his fierce loyalty and undying devotion. His fighting prowess and sentient equality with herself and all other speaking beings. Her fondness of him, appreciation for his presence when she needs someone to talk to, joy that he is in her life. The certainty that he will always be there when she needs him, and the trust that she puts in him. '_And you are Beorn._'

This conversation had only taken a few seconds, and Tiffany is back to slaying Risen at her companion's side already. The Vigil team is spreading out from the gate in a semicircle, clearing back the Risen. The semicircle is quite large by the time they get to the point that it would be unwise to separate any more from their allies. The Risen crash on them like waves on rocks, and the Vigil hold back the tide.

Blightghast screams, poison flying from its mouth, and Logan's shield is up in an instant. However, it isn't enough to protect Big Zojja, and the corrosive acid lands on the metal giant, eating away at the metal. Rytlock launches Sohothin into the air, the fiery sword arcing toward Blightghast's head.

Zojja slips out of the golem as the acid eats through its joints. Within moments, the acid reaches the two ropes still nestled in Big Zojja's cannons. As Sohothin's heat flares against the dragon's muzzle, Blightghast screams again, acid flying. Destiny's Edge carefully dodge the flying poison, but it wasn't aimed at them.

The ropes holding it to the ground snap as the acid lands on the tough fibers, and Blightghast jerks free and sails into the sky.

Eir's arrows shoot after it, exploding against the dragon's hide. Three more are winging their way in the Risen dragon's direction within moments, and then three more.

Zojja lifts into the air as she channels the wind in a powerful spell, and Eir's arrows becoming homing missiles. Currents in the air help them find their target even as Blightghast dodges, executing precise maneuvers to evade the exploding arrowheads.

Tiffany spins her axes in the same pattern absentmindedly as she watches the fight, accidentally killing several Risen. Beorn sends her sharp signal and she jerks back into the fight. She does keep an eye on Blightghast for the explosions from Eir's arrows.

Blightghast lets out a roar of rage - or at least that's what Tiffany thinks it is until the Risen turn and charge Destiny's Edge.

The Vigil chase after them, and Tiffany unslings her bow and begins shooting as they run. One of her arrows sails extra far on purpose, and Destiny's Edge notice the Risen charging them. Rytlock (who had recovered Sohothin), Logan, and Garm turn to face the oncoming horde while Eir and Zojja focus on Blightghast.

The Risen are caught between the (in this case) almost-literal anvil and hammer as the Vigil bear down on the trapped undead. Tiffany, axes ready and knives prepared, lunges into the fray, purposely distancing herself from allies and surrounding herself in Risen, and spins. Her axes are at neck level, and she tears down a good deal of Risen. The others see what she is doing and start funneling the Risen toward her.

The lethality of this tactic is quite high; Deorar causes chunks of ground and rubble to crush Risen heads, Aelius' rifle blows out Risen heads, Augurna joins Tiffany in becoming a whirlwind of death, Sarria's touch of Deception causes Risen to hallucinate and attack their fellows, Celsus draws symbols on the courtyard floor that ignite in holy fire, burning Risen to dust, Nipia is an even bigger whirlwind of death than any of the others, even Forgal, Trahearne has summoned several necromantic minions that seem to know exactly how to utterly demolish Risen beyond repair, and Fiona corrals the Risen in toward this Risen dying ground.

Blightghast screeches and swoops down at Destiny's Edge, claws extended and ready to skewer the first person to fall victim to it. Sohothin leaps into the air, and this time makes contact with Blightghast's leg, searing a burn. Blightghast zips back into the air with a cry of pain, and Eir's next few arrows impact the burn spot, driving the dragon crazy.

And then Zojja uses a new tactic; Eir's arrows burst into flame and target the dragon's wings. Disregarding the cost in burns, Blightghast dives down with a thunderous roar. Garm leaps at the burned leg and scratches viciously, eliciting a scream from the dragon, but no altered course. Logan and Rytlock join the wolf at slashing the dragon. As it lands, a fierce gust of air - generated by Zojja - disrupts its course and flings it back into the air.

Eir's now-burning arrows keep finding their marks in Blightghast's wings, with a few diverted to explode in wounds of the dragon's.

The Risen are being cut to pieces, the ones that still twitch being dealt with by Trahearne's magic. Forgal is almost as much of a whirlwind as Tiffany, and between them the Risen are meeting their end.

Blightghast screams - a shriek more awful than the ones before - and Tiffany risks a look up to see the dragon falling, its wings too holey to hold it up anymore. It does manage, in terror, to steer itself away from Destiny's Edge and plow into the ground without endangering anyone, before righting itself and screaming another acid-flying scream at the oncoming group.

Now all of Destiny's Edge can help, and the three groundlocked ones rush the dragon. Zojja, no longer needing to control the flight of Eir's arrows, releases the wind but holds fire. Eir's arrows still burn, but with a hotter, more intense heat. And they're aimed at the eyes now.

The Risen are almost all gone, now, but Tiffany is tired. Fiona ran out of energy long ago, and even the holy fire of Celsus' Protection seems weary. Everyone is slow and weary, but they are alive - which is more than can be said for the nonexistent corpses of their victims. Celsus' fire had been very thorough, even with the 'dead' ones.

They regroup in the gap in the wall and watch Destiny's Edge fight Blightghast, not having any more Risen to deal with.

They avoid the acid flying from the dragon's mouth (and Zojja even uses the wind to send it back to the source) and quickly batter down the dragon champion's defenses, inflicting many wounds and slowing the beast significantly before finally ending the menace.

Logan and Zojja burn the body away as Tiffany initiates a loud cheer, which the rest of her companions quickly take up.

And Tiffany still feels a sense of deep, foreboding dread as Destiny's Edge responds with a loud cheer of their own. Tiffany wonders why; Destiny's Edge had just collaborated to take on another dragon champion, Blightghast is dead, and Claw Island is free. So why does she feel suddenly like the future is hopeless? Why does she feel despair for Zhaitan ever falling? Tiffany glances at Fiona nervously. Tiffany can't think of any reason why she should be feeling like this, but it makes her uneasy. Like she's forgotten something, but she doesn't know what…

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Alright, I think this chapter is absolutely awesome. It is, almost completely and unequivocally, one of the most awesome chapters I have written. I won't say why just yet, because it all ties in to this epic subplot I have going for the Claw Island arc. This arc has got to be the most epic thing I've ever written - and I'm learning. This chapter fought me tooth and nail, but it's epic. Just wow. I am learning, and I am _epic_, and I am gonna beat my stupid inability to write this part until it gives up and I will have won, I will have dominated, and I will have learned how to write better than I ever have before! AHahahaha!

I have been planning this arc for TOO LONG for my inability to properly write it down get in my way! No! This is going to be epic, and I will dominate! I will surmount this latest barrier, and I will DOMINATE my own self. I will WIN over my ignorance of how to write this properly! I WILL WIN!

Later: Alright, I'm calmed down now. I just had to rant, because - no, no, don't start again.


	7. Chapter 7: Mysterious Implications

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: After an exhausting day, Tiffany returns home for a good night's sleep. The next morning, she realizes what that foreboding feeling she'd had the day before was. As she agonizes over this terrible devlopment in the history of Tyria, she wonders if life will ever be the same. After she Beorn calms her down, she heads out to the Vigil Keep to see what General Almorra wanted of her. As expected, she is offered the duty of mentoring Deborah… but she declines, and tells General Almorra to ask if Forgal can do it. Forgal, wondering why Tiffany would do such a thing, asks why. Beorn prompts Tiffany with an idea, and, after talking it over with Fiona, she decides to tell Forgal about the fact that she and Tiffany know the future. And Forgal didn't ask nearly as many questions as Tiffany had thought he would. Tiffany has a nightmare, and lies awake for hours. On Wednesday, she encounters somebody she technically doesn't know…

* * *

Chapter seven: Mysterious Implications

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Quite a curious chapter name last chapter, hm? It'll be oh-so-juicily resolved in this one. Mwahaha!

Well, that was a dose of reality. I was just looking at chapter three of _Tyria's Real_ (Tangwen, you know why ;) and now you also know what I was writing then) and I realized how much easier life/writing was back then… wow. Doing hearts with Mat and Ayla… its humbling, how far I've come since then…

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

That night, Tiffany is quite tired. After Destiny's Edge had taken down Blightghast, they turned off the watchtowers. While they waited for the ship to come and pick them up, Zojja inspected Big Zojja to find out what is salvagable. Luckily, the most important parts are - the powerstone laurel to operate it, most especially. On the other hand, the corrosive acid-spit from the dragon champion had eroded away most of the stone head capping the golem, and it is barely recognizable as Zojja's face any more.

Eir shrugs and says she can always carve another, but they all seem slightly forlorn at this turn of events.

Zojja decides that most of the pieces are not worth salvaging, given how easy and cheap it is to build golems these days, and she can always build the next one from scrap.

After they had returned to Lion's Arch, they alert the proper authorities that Blightghast is dead and Claw Island is free, and then, as the sun is already setting, Tiffany and Fiona had returned home.

As Tiffany drops off to sleep, something alarming occurs to her, but she is too tired and sleepy to analyze the implications of this, and she falls asleep before remembering why the day's events are a terrible tragedy.

* * *

She wakes up the next morning and, by force of habit, runs over what she has to do today. She comes up empty - oh right, she isn't with the charr anymore, she's not doing something morning to night anymore.

She climbs out of bed and is downstairs having breakfast before she recalls the events of yesterday - Destiny's Edge had killed Blightghast the Plaguebringer. A sudden chill runs down her spine.

The Pact's first victory has been thwarted. Worse, there is no pressing reason to form the Pact in the first place - everything is back to normal, and 'normal' is not conductive to things suddenly changing in regards to the different Orders' attitude toward each other.

Tiffany jumps up, her face white, then sits back down. There is nothing she can do. The Pact won't happen. There is no Blightghast to insert fear into the lives of anyone and everyone, to be the catalyst for the forming of the Pact. It won't be happening. The Pact will not happen. The Orders will remain alienated… there is nothing that Tiffany can do.

"Tiffany? What's the matter?" Fiona asks.

"**The Pact…**" Tiffany mutters in shock. "**It's not… Blightghast is dead. It was supposed to be the Pact that killed it, not Destiny's Edge.**"

Fiona frowns. "**But how does that change…?**"

Tiffany sighs. "**Because now, there is no motivation to form the Pact. Blightghast was a threat that none of the Orders could handle on their own. Now that it's dead…**" she trails off meaningfully.

Fiona frowns. "**But Blightghast is dead. Destiny's Edge can kill Zhaitan, too, just as easily.**"

"**But think of the things that that method **_**won't**_** accomplish,**" Tiffany snaps back. "**Destiny's Edge killing dragons is all well and good - but do you think they'll know how or be able to kill Mordremoth without knowing what we know? Not to mention the fact that if Destiny's Edge kills Zhaitan, Orr won't be cleansed. I'm not holding it against Destiny's Edge that they failed to kill Kralkatorrik… but we know what method works to kill Zhaitan. We know how to do it and avoid as much death as possible. Can Destiny's Edge even get far enough into Orr to confront Zhaitan without the Pact clearing the way?**"

Fiona remains silent, but Tiffany can see that she understands.

"What's all this babbling, girls?" Petra asks, looking over at them.

Tiffany just glances at Fiona, and makes up an excuse most likely to drive Petra away - or insane, one of the two. "You almost cursed us with the Curse," she points out. "You said 'what.'"

Petra's mouth sags open. "Wha - but - you're making the - ugh!" She turns away, groaning in pure frustration.

Tiffany scowls. She is in a very depressed mood. The Pact had been her life. It had been the thing she cared most about, what she'd been working toward for the last six months that she had been in Tyria. The Pact is more than a means to an end… it is her passion. Was. It will no longer be - no longer have a chance of being.

Tiffany hadn't known she felt this strongly about the Pact - she'd always thought that she felt this strongly about it because it was a stepping-stone to killing Zhaitan (which is a stepping-stone to killed Mordremoth and not having worry about it anymore). But now that she realizes it wont' happen, she feels a pang of loss as if she'd lost something that she'd had since childhood - like the stuffed teddy bear that she never really used much when she got older, but had always carried sentimental value.

Tiffany almost can't believe that the Pact won't happen. It had been a base fact that the Pact would happen, she'd never doubted it. But now… she'd seen Destiny's Edge kill Blightghast with her own two eyes, and she knows the hard facts and logic as well or better than most people.

Beorn sends her comfort. He knows how much the Pact had meant to her, how much she'd worked, since coming to Tyria, with its formation as one of her ultimate goals. Killing the Elder Dragons, Tiffany realizes now that she thinks about it, is almost secondary to the Pact… and now it won't happen, trashing her hopes of killing the Elder Dragons right along with it.

Tiffany's sense of horror does not diminish, however, as she tries to picture a world without the Pact. Without a hope for something more. Without a goal bigger than her current occupation - the Vigil, for example - she doesn't know what to do. She is fully aware that the Vigil by itself can't do anything, and anything she does as a member of that organization will lose its flavor and sense of importance, because it won't help anything and the Vigil will never become a part of the Pact. Killing the dragons… it might happen without the Pact. Maybe. Possibly, though it is unlikely.

But killing the Elder Dragons… while that is a high priority of hers, the Pact in and of itself had been a part of her. It had personified her sense of order and unity, her desire to work together for the benefit of all, her wish that the Orders would stop bickering and work together, and her belief that all the parts are necessary to achieve greatness, success and finally victory over the evil threatening Tyria. The Pact had filled her with life and determination, and now…

Now it is gone. It technically never was, and that makes it worse. This was the goal toward which she had been striving for the last six months, and it fails before it even gets a chance to begin. She couldn't have hastened the time - Zhaitan would send Blightghast when it would - so she'd spent it pulling Destiny's Edge together, another goal that she highly valued. Her innate sense of harmony loves seeing them work together - _Edge of Destiny_ had given her a warm glow inside - and it had foiled everything.

Because of her, Tiffany, the Pact will never be.

Beorn's attempts to soothe her fall on deaf ears - or frayed emotions - and Tiffany bolts upstairs, as if to get away from the realization that the Pact can never form, that the Orders will never come together.

Tears spring to her eyes as she enters her room. She locks the door - she would rather not be disturbed at the moment, even by Fiona - and curls up on her bed, shaking with repressed sobs.

Beorn clambers on to the bed after her and lies down beside her. Tiffany rolls into the warm furriness of his side, feeling the care and devotion he feels for her through the link, and finally lets herself cry.

A minute later, the doorknob rattles gently, but whoever it is - likely Fiona - turns and leaves upon finding it locked.

Tiffany clings to Beorn as she realizes how alone she feels without the Pact… without much of a motivation for anything at all. How can she work toward something like killing the Elder Dragons without the Pact?

And now it is gone. That aura of unity and understanding and oneness… the knowledge that she is working together with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of other people who all want the same thing, who have come together despite their differences, that had been the soul of the Pact. Nothing else quite represents this…

And the Pact will never happen. All the three Orders, none of the members, all working toward the greater goal of the Elder Dragons' defeat, will never know this sense of power, this knowledge that _they can do something_.

Beorn just sends her his care and concern and understanding, and after a while, Tiffany calms down. She would have cried herself to sleep if it hadn't been early morning, but as it is she just centers herself and accepts the truth. She doesn't really accept it - she just gives her subconscious the task of worrying about it for now - but she has to go to the Vigil Keep like General Almorra had told her the other day.

She finds Fiona not far down the hall, looking concerned. "**Tiffany, Deborah was wondering why you ran off like that. I thought it might be a good time to tell her about the fact that we know the future, but I was going to wait to ask you. She left a while ago, saying she had some stuff to attend to, but what do you think?**"

Tiffany shakes her head slowly. "**N-no, I don't think so. There's no need to tell her, and it'll just… it won't do anything. See what I mean?**"

Fiona nods reluctantly. "**I just… I don't like the feeling that we're keeping stuff from her.**"

"**I don't like it either,**" Tiffany grimaces, "**but it just doesn't… doesn't feel right, you know?**"

Fiona nods. "**Yeah, I know what you mean. We can wait - we've waited this long.**"

Tiffany sighs. "Alright, I have to get to the Keep. What're you gonna be doing?"

Fiona shrugs. "I thought I'd go visit Logan, you know, to congratulate him on his victory."

Tiffany's mouth twists in a wry smile. "Right. Won't do to not drop by, you know. Depending on what Almorra wants, I might do the same later."

Fiona nods. "See you then."

* * *

"Warmaster Tiffany, reporting, General Almorra," Tiffany salutes. She finds it hard to keep the consternation off her face - all the Vigil around her, thinking they can defeat an Elder Dragon, at the same time as utterly despising the other Orders… a pit of despair has settled in her stomach. Only Beorn's odd brand of comfort, specialized to Tiffany, keeps her focused on the General in front of her.

"At ease, Warmaster," the General replies with an amused glint in her eye. "I believe you know why you are here?"

Tiffany manages a small smile, unaware that it comes out more like a grimace. "I believe my sister Deborah has joined the Vigil, General. Something to do with her, I assume?"

General Almorra nods. "Yes, Warmaster. I wanted to give you the first chance to mentor her, to take charge of her training. Given her prior experience on the battlefield, I believe she just needs to be shown how the Vigil operates."

Tiffany really doesn't feel like it. She has no motivation - the Pact isn't coming. She knows it is important, that there is a chance of battling the Elder Dragons… but she just feels demotivated and lackluster about it. And Deborah deserves to have somebody that will train her mercilessly, as she had been. And it's distressing to her to be around the Vigil without the other Orders. It hadn't bothered her before - knowing that she was working toward their union - but it does now. And, in a corner of her mind, she feels the slightest bit resentful that the organization Deborah had joined was the Vigil, not the Pact.

But Tiffany knows that if she declines this, General Almorra will ask why. "I don't…" she pauses, trying to find a way to phrase her response. There are many excuses she could use - isn't it a bit odd for the recruit's sister to train her, Tiffany might not be completely fair, or maybe that she isn't sure of her capabilities to the task, or… Tiffany shakes her head. "I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask, General," she says carefully. "Maybe Forgal could do it? He trained me really well."

General Almorra frowns deeply this time, but nods. "Very well, Warmaster. You are dismissed."

* * *

Forgal frowns. "Wasn't Tiffany going to mentor Deborah?"

General Almorra sighs. "I gave her first choice, but she declined and directed me to you. She seemed slightly uneasy, as well, even before that. I know you'll check in on her, Forgal, but be careful."

"Of course I will," Forgal says instantly. "Was she acting normal, aside from not taking the task?"

Almorra frowns. "She seemed troubled by something, and she wasn't nearly as cheerful as she normally is."

"I'll look into it, General," Forgal promises. "For now, what are my directions concerning Recruit Deborah?"

Later, Forgal heads to the tavern, looking for his friend. She is sitting at a table on the bottom floor of the tavern, looking morose. "Are you alright, Tiffany? General Almorra told me you declined to teach Deborah the Vigil methods - I know you were really looking forward to that."

Tiffany sighs, as if in frustration. "I'm fine, Forgal." She sounds tired. "I just thought you could do a better job of it than me."

"She doesn't need any training fighting," Forgal says flatly, seeing through her evasion instantly. "There's nothing I can tell her about the workings of the Vigil that you can't. I thought you'd leap at the chance to tell her all about it."

Tiffany sighs, and then her eyebrows jump up as if in surprise, but it only lasts a moment. Forgal knows Beorn just told her something, and he feels a pang of grief for Blackwing and anger at Asvor, and a touch of - envy, maybe? - for Tiffany's healthy bond and companion. That emotion is quickly replaced by sincere happiness for Tiffany - she has never had to endure the devastation that death brings… death either of her companion, or anyone close to her. He fervently hopes that she never has the chance to experience either.

"I need to speak to Fiona for a moment," the young woman tells him, before trudging upstairs. Forgal can't help but note that the ever-present spring in her step is gone.

After a minute, Tiffany comes down again. "Come upstairs, Forgal."

Forgal follows Tiffany upstairs with more than a hint of curiosity.

"Alright, so…" Tiffany frowns thoughtfully - the expression she uses when she is trying to figure out how to say something.

Fiona speaks up in her place. "You know how me and Tiffany sometimes talk in a secret language?"

Forgal nods warily. "I thought it was Whispers talk?" The fact that his two friends are members of the Order doesn't bother him much anymore. He is still wary, suspicious, and unabashedly distrustful of the Order as a whole, but he has realized that Tiffany and Fiona are two of them that are not anything like the rest. He knows that he will never just trust them as a group, but Tiffany and Fiona are okay… as well as anyone they tell him can be trusted, like Vriré (although she is a work in progress and he won't trust her anytime soon).

"No, nothing like that at all." Fiona shakes her head. "If the Order of Whispers ever found out about this, we'd be… probably… I don't know. Something terrible, anyway. Oh, Tiffany, just in case these things are recorders…" Fiona flicks her wrist, and a small device attached to her forearm reveals itself, like a mesmer illusion coming undone. Forgal's eyes widen. Those things could have been recording anything they ever heard?

"Mine won't turn off," Tiffany tells her, fiddling with her own.

"I told you, Tiffany, the Initiate-level ones don't turn off," Fiona sighs. "Just take it off and hide it somewhere."

"It doesn't feel secure," Tiffany grumbles, but she takes it off and leaves the room.

"What are those things?" Forgal asks warily.

"They're called Access Keys, or A-Key for short," Fiona explains. "They're our pass into the Order's headquarters, files, everything. They're upgraded depending on your rank, and some things are restricted to certain levels. For example, Asvor's file was restricted to Agent-level, so neither me nor Tiffany could access it. Somebody - probably Vriré - had specially cleared us to see your file, though. I was recently promoted to Agent, and I have a lot more control and trust from the Order as a result, apparently. But I don't know what all it can do - I'm sure very few within the Order do."

Forgal frowns. "That sounds… intrusive."

Fiona sighs. "I know. It bothers me too, but once Tiffany gets around to being promoted to Agent we can turn them off."

"You're sure it isn't just a pretense to lull you into a false sense of security?" Forgal asks.

Fiona smiles. "Good thinking. But no - I don't think the Order can afford to alienate its members that way. It has stood for centuries, I doubt they did that on a foundation of distrust amongst themselves… on the other hand, I also doubt they've had members loyal to something else, either. Like us."

Then, Tiffany comes back. "So, Forgal, you ready to hear our secret?"

The norn nods.

"Alright," Tiffany says, taking a deep breath. "So, the secret language is really simple, but its just one of our methods for keeping our secret. I'm afraid if we tell you our _whole_ secret you'll go crazy, so we'll tell you the most relevant part. If and when you think you're ready for the rest of it, just tell us, okay? I hate keeping secrets from my friends."

Forgal nods. "So why don't you want to mentor Deborah?" he prompts.

"We'll get to that. So, me and Tiffany know the future. Well, what it would have been if we didn't change stuff."

Forgal frowns, not comprehending. His friends - Tiffany and Fiona - know the future? "How?" he asks.

Tiffany and Fiona grimace at each other. "That's the other secret," Tiffany says. "I promise you, I'd tell you if I could, but its even crazier than knowing the future."

Forgal nods slowly. "I see… So what sorts of things have you changed?"

"Destiny's Edge, mostly," Fiona tells him. Tiffany grimaces. "Before - in the knowledge from the future - by this point, they hadn't fixed their problems in the slightest. It's one of the more major changes."

Forgal frowns. "So, wouldn't you know that if you told me you joined the Order of Whispers, I'd…" he pauses. He is not proud of what he had done. "…go crazy?"

"No, we never joined the Order in that timeline," Fiona tells him. Forgal blinks. So they'd joined it to - what - be able to influence things with their knowledge a bit more? But then why hadn't they told the Order?

"Everything about it is new," Tiffany informs him. "On the other hand, we know a few odd things about you - like how you died in this alternate timeline."

Forgal is instantly interested. "How did that happen?" he asks.

"Claw Island. Talon - " Tiffany spat the name, " - didn't let us light the watchtowers for another ten minutes, and by then it was really bad. You sacrificed yourself to hold them off so we could get away."

"Oh," Forgal says slowly. "So… that's why you were so frantic the whole time? And so harsh with Commander Talon? You were worried about me?"

"Of course I was," Tiffany sighs. "You're my friend."

Forgal nods, digesting this information. "So… what does this have to do with why you don't want to mentor Deborah? Will it, like, mess up something in the future?"

"No." Tiffany shakes her head morosely. "It's because Destiny's Edge killed Blightghast."

Forgal frowns. "That's a bad thing?"

"It is, if you know the future," Fiona inserts.

"Originally," Tiffany says, "Destiny's Edge were scattered to the four winds. The Vigil had no hope of defeating Blightghast on their own, so I went with Trahearne to find some extra people to help. After a meeting with the Pale Tree and a warning that Risen were coming in force to the Vigil Keep, we went there and repulsed the siege. Then, realizing that the Vigil had no hope of doing anything by itself - there were no dragon champions in that assault, and we barely pulled through - I suggested an alliance of the three Orders. Warmaster Efut was grouchy about it, but General Almorra said I could set up a meeting, if I could."

Forgal blinks, a few pieces of the puzzle falling into place. "And I was dead, so you had no way of knowing my opinion about the Order of Whispers."

"Yeah, we never knew anything about that," Tiffany nods. "Anyway," she continues, I managed to set up a meeting, and we convinced them to work together. Then, General Almorra insisted that, since the Orders have never had any hope of working together, somebody had to lead them. Gixx said that it had to be somebody that hadn't joined an Order yet, or there'd be favoritism and who knows what else."

Forgal nods. "That makes a great deal of sense."

"Yes, and now I'm going to let you guess who they picked," Tiffany smirks. Her eyes are sad, though.

Forgal thinks for a moment. If it can't be anyone from any of the Orders… who is dedicated to fighting the Elder Dragons like that? Destiny's Edge, Tiffany had said they'd been fractured… they're going after Zhaitan… "Trahearne."

"Got it in one," Fiona nods.

"But where were you in all of this?" Forgal asks the mesmer.

"She… kind of didn't exist," Tiffany explains. "That has to do with our other secret that we can't tell just yet."

Forgal grimaces. What in Tyria can this other secret _be?_

"So, anyway," Fiona tells him, "Trahearne led this union of the Orders - they called it the Pact - against Blightghast, and they defeated Blightghast. Then, everybody started figuring out how the Pact is going to work - since now they're all going to march against Zhaitan in a counterattack."

"Long story short," Tiffany interrupts, "we end up killing Zhaitan alongside a newly-reformed Destiny's Edge."

"Wait, what?" Forgal asks, and blinks a few times. "You killed Zhaitan? An Elder Dragon?"

"Yep," Tiffany says proudly, but with a touch of sorrow. "The Pact is awesome. We never could have done it without a full union of the Orders."

"It's possible to kill them?" Forgal asks excitedly. "Nobody was ever quite sure it was possible, but we all were going to do our best. It's actually possible?"

Tiffany nods.

"That's awesome," Forgal breaths. "How could you be depressed over _that_?"

"Destiny's Edge killed Blightghast," Tiffany repeats sadly. "Like I said, killing Blightghast was the Pact's first victory. It cemented the idea that the Orders _can_ work together, not to mention being the catalyst for the Orders coming together in the first place. Now…" she trails off meaningfully.

"Oh," Forgal frowns. "But we know they can be defeated," he points out.

Tiffany shakes her head. "I'm afraid it's near impossible without the Pact," she says somberly. "And I can't just suggest it out of thin air. We had to convince them - we need a present, common enemy to show them they have to work together. At the moment, everything is as it is normally, they'll never work together."

Forgal frowns. "You're right. So you're depressed because this union of the Orders won't come together, and so your future knowledge is falling apart?"

"No, no, no!" Tiffany exclaims, frustrated. "Alright, maybe you don't understand. The Pact was my _life_, Forgal. It's a part of me. I don't know how to explain. Ever since I… knew these memories, I've been working toward the Pact. That its no longer going to happen _devastates_ me. I'm not sad that I can't depend on my future knowledge, I'm sad because the Pact can't happen, and… it was my everything. My family."

"Oh." Forgal knows what she means, in a vague sort of way.

"It's hopeless," Tiffany continues. "It won't happen. It can't happen - Blightghast is dead. All this I've been working toward for nearly six months, and in my memories of the future, I… the Pact was the personification of many of my desires. Or maybe I was the personification of the Pact's foundational principles."

Forgal nods. "I understand." But he didn't, not really. He knew enough to know that he couldn't imagine what Tiffany must be feeling. "And Petra and Deborah and Andrew - nobody knows this?" Forgal asks.

"Nobody knows," Fiona confirms.

"Well, I… I'll have to think about this," Forgal says slowly. "Thank you for trusting me with this." With how little he'd trusted them, this is a gigantic sign of how much they trust him… and a definite point in their favor for never second-guessing their motives in regards to himself.

Tiffany smiles thinly. "I was always going to tell you. I don't like keeping secrets from my friends. You think about it, and tell me or Fiona if you have any more questions."

* * *

That night, Tiffany has nothing to distract her from thinking about the Pact anymore. Not even thinking about how they'd finally told someone that they knew the future could crowd it out for long.

She feels lost and alone, and while Beorn's presence helps, she sees them two - and Fiona - as lone rocks in a storm-tossed sea, buffeted on all sides by failure and despair, and wishing to sink into the ocean and not bother with trying anymore. The Pact is gone, the Orders will never unite, and all her effort is for nothing.

And while the Elder Dragons might be defeated anyway… they also might not.

Tiffany falls asleep to these troubling thoughts.

Tiffany is fighting Risen, her wand warm in her hand as she is backed into a corner. "_Expecto Patronum!_" she yells frantically. A silvery bear comes out of her wand and lunges at the Risen, but passes through harmlessly…

She _is_ Risen, now, she is a passenger in her own rotting body… she stumbles toward Fiona, who is in much the same position she had been in earlier. Beorn is with Fiona, rage pouring through the link, making Tiffany frantic as well, but she can't do anything - Zhaitan's will drives her body now.

She cries bitter tears as her body tears Beorn apart, is driven mad with grief and self-blame as her mind implodes with links to all the animal companions ever…

"Tiffany… no…" Fiona whispers as her Risen sister deals a fatal blow, her life fading…

Destiny's Edge fall to Tiffany's blade and savage smile, taken one by one unawares. Inside the head of the Risen body, Tiffany's mind is slowly fragmenting as she watches her loved ones die one by one, by her own Risen hand…

The Risen horde sweeps through Tyria, dominating the land…

She finds Taimi - young, defenseless, unaware Taimi - and gains another soldier for Zhaitan's army. The tiny Risen asura hangs around Risen Tiffany, and the sight of Taimi with her eyes glazed over in death but with the will of Zhaitan behind them drives Tiffany nuts.

Canach's disdainful snort as she comes for him brings tears to her eyes - or would if she was in control of her body - as he very expertly tries to defeat her with no compunctions whatsoever (as she hasn't seen him in Tyria yet). The Risen body defeats him, but he still does not surrender to Zhaitan's corruption, a fact that would have made Tiffany smirk.

Braham and his friends fall to her blade, then Kasmeer, Rox, Marjory… Tiffany becomes known as Risen to fear. Several people that she hadn't met had become targets - Canach and Marjory - and many that she'd only had a passing aquaintance with - Rox, Taimi, Braham, Malena and Reistr - and nobody is safe. Sieran falls, even Vriré…

Trahearne, telling her to kill him, her Risen self smirking in glee as the illusion hiding her nature comes undone, the shock and confusion on his face as he realizes what is happening, and yet can still see a tiny spark of awareness behind her eyes as she finds the most painful way to kill him… she can see when he gives up , her betrayal too much, as he dies _so painfully slowly_ and Mordremoth is let loose again…

And then she battles Forgal. He had not encountered her blade yet, had somehow survived the legions of Risen sweeping Tyria, now joined by Mordrem… she fights Forgal as he tries desperately to end this twisted existence of the friend he once knew… they are evenly matched. Forgal had trained her well.

She finally falls to Forgal's blade, and her control returns for just a moment… "Thank you," she whispers as the corruption leaves her and she dies finally, as her body succumbs to the decomposition that Zhaitan's magic had held off for so long. "Thank you." She can finally rest, she can fall into blackness and know no more, not have to deal with the mental agony that being Risen had been…

Tiffany jerks upright with a scream, the vivid dream flashing before her eyes again. Beorn's mind is instantly there, soothing her and reminding her it was just a dream.

Fiona, ever the deep sleeper, is not aroused by Tiffany's wakefulness.

Tiffany lies down again, shuddering and trying to erase the memories, trembling at what she had done, wondering where in Tyria her subconscious had generated that dream.

She lays awake for hours, afraid to go to sleep again, until the sun peeks above the horizon and Divinity's Reach begins to stir.

She realizes that this is a possible truth - she could be killed by Risen, and if so, she is most likely to turn on those closest to her first. Only physically closest like Beorn and most likely Fiona, but dreams are largely symbolic. The part about Trahearne she attributes to it being a dream and therefore extremely weird, and the same goes for the fact that she'd fired a Patronus in the beginning. She manages a smile that her Patronus was a bear - if it had been anything else, she is sure Beorn would have at least pretended to be offended.

This does make her wonder, though, whether the minds of those turned into Risen do remain in their bodies, helpless. Nobody knows. It puts a new perspective on killing as many Risen as possible.

Tiffany comes to realize that she is not suitably angry at Zhaitan. Nobody she knows has been killed by Risen, and she knows that (if the Pact was capable of happening) she can kill it, and that killing it is just a stepping-stone to killing Mordremoth. She hasn't a healthy fear or respect of the Elder Death Dragon, and the idea of that is troubling to her. Even the nightmare she'd just had is just a dream - it doesn't influence her opinion of the Elder Dragon much. The wild emotions - unfettered by her subconscious, which hates it when she feels negative emotions like grief - she had felt within the dream are blunted now that she is awake.

Tiffany has given up hope that anything can bring the Pact into existence.

She hadn't really thought about how much the Pact meant to her since she realized it was the actual Pact she cared about, not its uses or accomplishments.

But now that she probes her feelings about the Pact, she realizes that it is, actually, the Pact itself she cares for. All the fond memories of working with its members are part of why the Pact means so much to her - watching old enemies reconcile into a single, flawless unit that strikes against Elder Dragons was just delightful, it pleased her to the farthest degree, made her happy. The sort of thing she strives for, the sort of thing she nurtures and protects like a mother cares for her child.

And, technically, Tiffany realizes, the Pact is her child. She thought up the idea for it and made it happen, and was even second-in-command under Trahearne. Wait, but that would mean - she redirects her thoughts immediately. Best not to think about anything remotely connected with that.*

* * *

Fiona is quite good at appearing normal - that or she doesn't get it as much as Tiffany does - but Tiffany is withdrawn and somber, and anyone who knows her well notices it. The ranger is quiet and despondent, and not at all her normal cheery self. Deborah notices something is wrong and drops the word 'whatever' in a conversation.

Tiffany doesn't respond to it, and Petra nearly faints. The others stare in shock, even Fiona. Tiffany had _never_ missed a curse before.

* * *

Marjory and her associate, Henry Baker, had found the boy - Mendel - into a dark alleyway in the Salma district at about noon on Wednesday.

Marjory opens her mouth to speak to the boy, but Baker's sword flashes out of its sheath and into Mendel's chest. Marjory's eyes widen as the boy's last breath escapes his throat.

She states the obvious. "You killed him." Her voice is surprisingly calm - but she's in shock.

"I did my job," Baker corrects coolly. He smirks at her.

Marjory seethes. He'd taken the same oath she had - to protect and serve the Krytan Ministry and Divinity's Reach. Nowhere in that oath is killing innocent civilians condoned. And Baker had done it without hestitation.

Wondering in the back of her mind at the implications of this, Marjory slams Baker against the wall, holding her forearm under his chin. The Aspect of Renewal glows at her fingertips, and Baker tries to get away, pressing himself against the wall.

"We were just supposed to take him in for questioning," Marjory snarls.

Baker smirks. "Those might've been your orders, but they weren't mine. It was a need-to-know mission."

The mission had been to bring him in, not kill him! Marjory can't believe the Ministry would do such a thing… or maybe she can. The Ministry just might be that corrupt… She realizes that her surprise stems from the fact that she had been sent on this mission at all if Baker was just going to _kill_ him. "You won't get away with this."

"What can you do?" Baker taunts. "Turn me over to the Seraph? This was sanctioned by the brass up in the nosebleed offices, way above our ranks. I'd be out of the holding cell before the Seraph had even finished grilling you. Then, you'd be the one in trouble, not me."

Recognizing the truth in the man's words, Marjory steps back, a ferocious snarl on her face.

"Good call," Baker tells her. "Listen, don't be naïve. What's one dead stranger out of thousands in this city? The Ministry keeps us safe, and that's all that matters. You keep your head down and do what you're told. Maybe you'll earn that need-to-know status. I'm heading back to the offices before some nosy citizen comes along."

Baker's casual dismissal of the boy's life sickens Marjory. She doesn't reply. As Baker walks away, she realizes that she can't work with people like this anymore.

"Hello?" a voice asks, quiet as if muffled by something.

Marjory turns to see the ghost of the boy, facing away from her. The Aspect of Renewal is instantly interested, and Marjory lets the power flow through her.

"Hello?" the ghost asks again, a note of panic entering his voice. "Is someone there?"

He can apparently feel Renewal - whether because he is a ghost or because he had some affinity with it himself in life, Marjory isn't sure. She speaks softly, as if speaking to cornered animal or a frightened child. "Mendel. It's okay. You're not alone."

Marjory knows she can send him to the Mists, ease his passage… gods know he'd probably been traumatised, either by being killed by one of the Ministry - who are supposed to protect people - or from witnessing whatever it was he saw that Baker had killed him for.

"Who… who are you?" His voice is quavery - warped by the aether.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Marjory says softly. "Tell me one thing, and then I'll send you to the gods. What crime did you witness yesterday?"

Mendel's misty form wavers, as if uncertain. "I… I…"

Marjory reaches out with the Aspect of Renewal, touching the ghost as if with her hand. He can feel it, and it soothes him. "You can tell me," she tells him.

"They took a… woman… into a cellar," Mendel says hesitantly, fearfully. "They used dark magic on her. She screamed, but it was silent. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her eyes…"

"Okay. Who did this?" Marjory asks. Perhaps…

The ghost looks her in the eye for the first time. Marjory can see the fear and determination in his eyes. "Minister - "

Renewal - not hers - blasts past Marjory, and she rolls to the side, her own Renewal surrounding her like a cloud. But it hadn't been intended for her - it hits Mendel's ghost square in the chest, and he is instantly sucked into the Mists.

Easy passage, _indeed_. Marjory sprints after the other necromancer, following the faint trail of Renewal, her sixth sense guiding her. At the end of the alley, she pauses and glances around, looking for them.

A cloud of dead air bursts up around her, latched on, and would not let go. Dead air - quite dead. The smell alone tells her that much - this trap had been set by Renewal, primed and readied, but lingers no longer. Her own sense of the magic cannot lessen the impact of the putrid air that makes her eyes water and her mouth go dry. Marjory fights the urge to gag and searches her surroundings.

She notes a black-cloaked figure moving in the shadows to the right. Marjory runs after it, but it rounds another corner. Marjory pauses, and, wary of another trap, she peers around the edge.

No trap designed for a necromancer's immunities, no enemy to confront. No one. The mystery assassin had vanished into the open-air marketplace in the center of the Salma district.

Scowling, Marjory stands from her wary crouch. As she reaches her full height, somebody comes up behind her. They are too gentle, too… _intimate_ for Marjory's fight or flight instincts. When the knife appears at her throat, she freezes, eyes widening. She'd been had.

"Calm," a deep voice says in her ear. The Aspect of Renewal does not react to this person, and Marjory can't feel any within him. This is not her target. "The man you're chasing is Kraig the Bleak. Magic for hire. You'll probably never see him again."

"Who are you?" Marjory asks, even as she mentally files the information away.

"Listen closely," the voice tells her, and Marjory knows she won't find out who he is. "There are forces at work in this city, in this world, that will take us all down if we let them. Together, you and I can make a difference."

The adrenaline is fading, and Marjory finds herself relaxing. "And what a positive start to our relationship." She notes with amusement that even her sense of humor is returning.

"One you won't forget," the voice tells her as if in warning. "I'll be in touch. You can call me E."

The knife vanishes, and the man - at least, Marjory assumes it was a man - is gone. All this, and all she can think is, '_I need a new job._'

She shakes her head and walks out into the street, intending to go home and have a stiff drink. She scans her surroundings out of force of habit. She turns away, then back again. She'd almost missed it, but - had someone been staring at her?

A young woman with a bow on her back is talking in a low voice to another, slightly taller, whose head is bent to listen to her.

Marjory narrows her eyes. She is sure that one or both had been looking at her moment before. Throwing caution to the wind, she approaches, ready to strike with Renewal if need be.

As she nears the two, a large bear, growling in its throat, blocks her way.

The only possible way a bear would be _here_, in the middle of Divinity's Reach, is either if it is part of a circus or a ranger's companion. The woman she has her eye on is wearing a bow on her back. Marjory looks up at her.

The woman is looking at her, a small smile on her face. The bear abruptly turns and lopes to her side. Marjory's eyes track it nervously.

"Don't worry, Beorn won't hurt you," the woman tells her, amusement evident in her voice. "I'm Tiffany, by the way, and this is my sister, Fiona."

The muscles in Marjory's face tighten, and she introduces herself warily… leaving off the accustomed 'Ministry Guard' on the beginning. "Marjory Delaqua," she says stiffly.

"Formerly of the Ministry Guard?" The woman - Tiffany - guesses.

Marjory barely manages to keep her jaw from dropping. '_How could she - how could anyone - know that I was planning to resign?_' "Formerly?" she says aloud, quirking an eyebrow.

Tiffany seems slightly caught off guard for a moment, but then she says, "you did not introduce yourself as a member of that organization."

'_But how did you know I was a member of the Ministry Guard in the first place?_' Marjory wonders as she heads home for that long-awaited stiff drink.

The next day, she turns in her badge. The day after that, she forms Delaqua Investigations - based in the Dead End bar - and resolves to figure out the conspiracy behind the ghost boy's murder.

And to figure out why in the name of Kormir so many people know things about her. This E and those sisters in the Salma district.

Tiffany and Fiona likely will be the easiest - they had seemed quite forthcoming - so Marjory focuses her attention on E and why Mendel was so important to the Ministry Guard.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I thought this chapter would be a good place to reassert the fact that I am not going to be doing pairings. It will be hinted at (maybe) and generally assumed that Marjory and Kasmeer are together (and everybody knows that Caithe and Faolain were before Faolain died), and everyone knows of the weird relationship between Logan and Jennah, but nothing more will ever happen between anybody else, and the canon pairings are definitely going on off-scene as far as I'm concerned. Just thought this would be a good place to remind you guys, given that Marjory has just entered the scene. (And because I don't want anybody reading too much into the paragraph marked with a * at the end. There's nothing there… Tiffany has just been teased mercilessly by Falcon and she has very definite ideas about what exactly certain people mean to her.)

Anyway! Hope you liked it!


	8. Chapter 8: Gathering Storm

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Tiffany, Forgal and Deborah are assigned to Claw Island. Forgal asks Tiffany some questions, and Tiffany tells Forgal more future knowledge. Later, Zhaitan's other three champions arrive at Claw Island. The Lionguard, having learned their lesson, evacuate immediately. Tiffany and Forgal go to the tavern to alert Fiona, then split up to tell the Orders and Destiny's Edge.

* * *

Chapter eight: Gathering Storm

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I am _so_ evil. So evil. So crazy evil. Just you wait and see what I have cooked up for this chapter. You'll either murder me or… murder me. Or recognize the insane plot twist and sit back for the show while worrying about Tiffany and Fiona's reactions.

Also, this chapter starts out with another Christian-topic section. If you don't want to read it, skip to the notification afterwards as normal. (These sections are leading up to something, they're not meaningless.)

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

Tiffany?" Fiona asks. "What do you think… do you think God had something to do with Claw Island?""

Tiffany blinks slowly and pales. "I… I certainly hope not. Oh, Fiona, this is just so _frustrating_! I can't get any - I can't… he's not _there_. I can't feel him. What's wrong? I… I don't want…"

Fiona grimaces. "It's just so… uncertain. Everything is. I don't like it. We don't even know that what we're striving for _can_ happen. Will we keep trying?"

Tiffany takes a deep breath and nods. "Yes. Jesus might just be testing us - maybe we've been to reliant on our knowledge of the future. Maybe he wants to see how badly we _really_ want to help Tyria. It could be any number of things. But this is still an evil we should face up against. Back on earth, would we have given up going against Satan if it was hopeless? Would it have mattered?"

Fiona nods slowly. "I see your point. If we give up, Tyria is overrun. If we keep trying and it's hopeless, Tyria is overrun, just maybe at a later date. If we keep trying and it _isn't_ hopeless… we've probably saved a million lives. If we _give up_ and it isn't hopeless, then the blame of a million deaths is on our hands."

"It isn't just that," Tiffany says quietly. "I _have_ to trust that it isn't hopeless. I have to believe that we can win… because if I do not, is life worth living? If I do not, what is the point of existing? And why are we here? If we are alone and out of God's reach, then what do we have? The Six? The Six have left the humans… and leaving is also something that is not in the nature of the Holy Trinity. God looks out for his followers, his _children_. I have to trust that he'll come for us sometime, whether that is tomorrow or on my deathbed or not until I'm in heaven again. I have to. There's no other viable alternative."

Fiona nods. "I see your point. I just… I'm scared. What if you're wrong?"

"Sometimes," Tiffany says solemnly, looking into her sister's eyes. "Sometimes, you just have to trust."

_**END OF RELGIOUS/CHRISTIAN SECTION**_

* * *

On Thursday, Forgal comes to the tavern with Deborah. They tell Tiffany that the three of them have been stationed on Claw Island - given recent events, General Almorra wants there to be a Vigil presence on the island.

Fiona wants to come, but Petra reminds her that she has to get back to the Priory tomorrow, and Fiona grumbles but stays home.

"So, Tiffany, looking forward to ages of wandering around an already-well-manned island?" Forgal asks jokingly as they get off at the dock.

"Not really," Tiffany replies. Deborah grimaces at Tiffany's lack of energy and typical joking response. Forgal just frowns thoughtful.

Later, when Tiffany is standing on the wall and looking out in the direction of Orr, squinting against the stiff wind coming from that direction, Forgal approaches her. "Tiffany?" he begins. "About the whole knowing the future thing… you said I was supposed to die on Sunday. Did you ever run into my corpse?"

Tiffany blinks in confusion, before realizing that he means his _Risen_ corpse. "No, we didn't. I've always wondered what happened, and why we didn't." Particularly since Anet would probably have _loved_ to throw Risen Forgal in her face. Of course, then they would also have had to do that to Sieran for Priory players, and sylvari aren't affected by the other Elder Dragons… but at least some 'dealing with the grief/body/etc' scene.

Forgal nods. "That makes sense. What did the Pact do after Zhaitan?"

Tiffany sighs, rooting around in her memories for what the Pact _was_ doing after the fall of Zhaitan. "We were gathering members and preparing for the next Elder Dragon. The Pact's assault on Orr took a lot out of the Orders - especially the Vigil. My knowledge only goes as far as thirteen twenty-eight, though." Tiffany, to her own surprise, doesn't mind giving Forgal the details. She knows she wouldn't want to give the details to anyone else, and she suspects the difference lies in the fact that Forgal was supposed to have died last week.

So she tells him. "Kralkatorrik was the target." '_I think._' "Then, Mordremoth - the jungle dragon - woke up. Trahearne instantly turned all resources to it, and the winning strategy against Zhaitan - flying airships at the dragon's face and shooting cannons as fast as they could fire - was deployed as soon as possible. I wasn't with the Pact Fleet when it launched, though Logan, Zojja and Eir were. Rytlock and Caithe were MIA for some reason." As Tiffany doesn't know why herself, she doesn't elaborate. "Mordremoth…. crushed them. They didn't even hurt the dragon. The airships crashed, leaving wreckage all over the Maguuma Jungle. Many died, and others… were taken prisoner. I and a few of my friends - almost all of which I have made at least some sort of contact with in this timeline - set out on search and rescue, helping the Pact back on its feet as we went. They were disorganized, divided, and distrustful, but I couldn't stay with them long."

"Distrustful?" Forgal asks.

Tiffany grimaces. "Yeah… turns out the mysterious origins of sylvari… they're actually Mordremoth's minions. But they're free, Forgal. Mordremoth's mental power - its second domain is mind - seduced many of them to his side. But others - like Trahearne, and Warmaster Laranthir - resisted this unwarranted intrusion and remained steadfast. Others with strong wills did, as well, but that didn't stop the distrust from the others. It broke my heart, Forgal, watching the Pact divide along racial lines. Human, charr, asura and norn alike shunned the sylvari. I can understand turning on the weak ones that turned to Mordremoth and were, you know, attacking them, but the others? Those that resisted? The environment created by this was very conductive to the others giving up."

"The Pact - the union of the Orders - broke along _racial_ lines?" Forgal asks, the surprise evident in his voice. "How did it ever… _did_ it ever fix?"

"I don't know, my knowledge only goes as far as Mordremoth's defeat," Tiffany sighs. "What I do know is that I'm sure it was worse that the Pact was geographically divided, as well. And that Trahearne and the members of Destiny's Edge were among the prisoners, not the free survivors."

Forgal's eyes widen.

Tiffany continues. "We tracked them through the jungle - with several side stops that were probably our downfall. We found Eir first, and she was killed as we rescued her. Once I tell you what all happened, I'll give you what I think Mordremoth's motives were behind certain actions. That dragon is _devious_, Forgal, and smart as an asura... if I'm right. Anyway, Braham - uh, one of my friends - and Rox - oh yeah, you met Rox, didn't you? Yeah, I know Rox from the future - stayed behind to… do… norn stuff, I guess." Tiffany blushes at Forgal's amused look. "I haven't the slightest clue what they were doing! I only know that when Braham and Rox caught up to us again, Braham was bald. Taimi - Braham's best friend besides Rox - made sure the rest of us noticed."

"Wait, what? This Braham was - is - Eir Stegalkin's son?" Forgal asks, startled.

"How could you know that?" Tiffany asks, surprised.

"Only the son of the deceased ever shaves their head,"* Forgal frowns. "I didn't know Eir Stegalkin had a son."

"Neither did I, 'till I met Braham," Tiffany shrugs. "He was kind of mad at her for leaving him when he was little, and their relationship was only just starting to get a real start to it when she died. He was really worked up about that. But the rest of us had to go after those that were still alive." Deciding to skip over Tarir - the most confusing part of the whole expansion - she continues, "we moved on until Taimi found an old asuran device from centuries ago. We powered it on, and it showed us where Mordremoth was, as well as an old, lost asuran city. Taimi _freaked_ out and insisted we go there. Rox reported that the trail we were following probably wasn't of any use, so we went to Rata Novus - took a lot of trouble and time doing that, as well - and discovered that every Elder Dragon has a unique, respective weakness."

"Do you know what they are?" Forgal asks.

"Sadly, no, although we figured out Mordremoth's eventually. The Rata Novans were all killed by chak - nasty little buggers, but not dragon minions - and we didn't have any more information. We moved on - Rox had gone on ahead and found a trail, I guess - and when Braham, Canach and I caught up with them, we found Logan and Zojja. Logan was barely conscious and Zojja was unconscious, so I had Kasmeer portal them back to safety, and told Rox to stay with her."

"This Kasmeer is a mesmer?" Forgal checks. "Why didn't - oh right, Fiona didn't exist. I don't want to interrupt your story, but you seem to be in charge of the group."

"Um," Tiffany says eloquently. She had been avoiding mentioning her Commander status, since, well… and all the confusion in this timeline about how that will play out makes it even more weird… although, come to think of it, none of group of friends were actually in the Pact. She frowns. "I don't know. None of them were in the Pact, just friends I made while wandering around. I wasn't that involved with the preparations for battle, honestly, and ended up killing a crazy sylvari that blew up Lion's Arch. They all helped me do that, and somehow everyone automatically assumed I was the leader or something?"

Forgal laughs. "Well, seems like you have a talent for making friends even without knowing them from the future."

Tiffany grimaces. Technically it wasn't _her_ that made the friends, but Forgal isn't ready for that yet (when he is, he'll ask). "Right. So, anyway… we found Trahearne not far on. He was in a _really_ bad way. He was literally fused to the dragon itself - which, it turns out, is every corrupted vine in the whole jungle. I was astonished at his situation, but his first question after realizing who it was that had got there to save him finally was about the Pact. The Pact! In his situation! I told him it was all ruined and then told him that we'd manage to kill the dragon. I sometimes wonder what his perspective on that conversation was…"

"Couldn't you just have asked him?" Forgal asks.

Tiffany winces. "Well… let me finish. So we had a talk, with us trying to figure out how to do it and Trahearne telling us how burning the jungle down wouldn't work because it'd just grow back - I remember that conversation and the one after verbatim, mind you - and we finally hit upon the solution of attacking Mordremoth's mind. Trahearne had some weird connection - later he called it a seed - that allowed us in to confront it. That was the hardest fight of my whole entire life, Forgal. I almost died a _million_ times… I won't go into the details. So anyway, when we left Mordremoth's mind, my first thought was wondering 'now what, how do we get Trahearne out of here.'"

"Right," Forgal frowns. "It was that easy? Just go in, beat up its mind, get out?"

"Oh, no indeed," Tiffany replies, grimacing. "In fact, that was just… anyway. So then - at least, so I thought at the time - Trahearne had the bright idea to use his sword to… well, I didn't know what he meant at the time. He used the phrase 'free me from this' and that 'it is the only thing that can' so I assumed he knew what he was talking about. So I found his sword - all broken and battered and wilty-looking - "

"How does a _sword_ look _wilty_?" Forgal asks, confusion written on his features.

"Oh! Well it was a sylvari legend thing… I'm doing a horrible job of describing it. Ever heard of Caladbolg? Actually, probably n - "

"Yes," Forgal said unexpectedly. "Crusader Branthyn helped recover it from… what's his name… Waine."

"Oh," Tiffany nods. "Well, yes. The Pale Tree gave it to Trahearne - not yet in this timeline, and it would have been within a few days of the Claw Island thing, at most. So I brought it to Trahearne and then guess what he told me!" Tiffany grumbles. "The worst moment of my whole entire life."

Forgal frowns. "Why…?"

"'Cause he told me…" Tiffany voice drops to a whisper. "He told me to kill him, Forgal."

Forgal's mouth sags open. "He what? Trahearne? Why?"

"'Cause the connection goes both ways," Tiffany tells him bitterly. "Mordremoth was in his head, had a special 'escape from death' plan ready. So then it was stuck inside Trahearne's head, but all the rest of the sylvari were finally free, and to everybody but Trahearne it was dead… but there's an Elder Dragon putting every ounce of mental power into trying to get out, there's no way even somebody like Trahearne could hold on. So he told me to kill him before Mordremoth took him anyway."

"No one should have to…" Forgal says, whispering in shock. "Nobody should be forced to…"

Tiffany nods sadly. "It made sense, though. It was logically the best thing to do. It made complete sense! Ijust… I didn't want to do it."

"I don't blame you," Forgal says vehemently.

Tiffany grimaces. "But also… I couldn't just let him fall to Mordremoth. It might've been easier to kill him if he'd been actively attacking me, but it also would've been heartbreaking - for both of us. Trahearne had held out this long, it would be so… I don't know. To just let Mordremoth have him. Better to die free than succumb and become a slave, you know? But I wasn't thinking about any of this, I was just in shock. And then Mordremoth started to gain some control - spoke with his mouth before Trahearne stopped it. And then… it was almost like he was in physical pain, Forgal. I… I couldn't stand to see him…"

"I understand," Forgal says, placing a hand on her shoulder and drawing her close. "It's alright."

"But it's _my fault_," Tiffany whimpers. "I got sidetracked so many times on the way… each time it was my call. I failed him, Forgal. I failed him."

"You didn't fail him," Forgal tells her firmly. "You didn't let the dragon take him. I'm sure he would've said thank you a thousand times over for not allowing that to happen."

"But it was my fault for getting him in that situation to begin with," Tiffany tries to explain. "I don't feel guilty about doing it - the situation called for it and _he told me to_ \- I feel guilty about allowing that situation to happen to begin with."

"You couldn't have known," Forgal tells her quietly. "And you can stop it this time."

"We're on the perfect road to that," Tiffany says bitterly. "Without the Pact, Trahearne will never set foot in the jungle. But I proved then that killing the Elder Dragons is more important than any one person's life, however close he may be. That's why he died, Forgal. Ultimately it was to kill Mordremoth. I'm sure if he - Forgal, I'm sure if he knew for sure and certain that it would end the dragon, he would've let Mordremoth take him." Tiffany had never said it out loud before, but she knows it to be true. Trahearne is just that sort of person. "He's Trahearne. He picks one thing, and he does it with all his might. Right now, it's his Wyld Hunt. After that, it was the Pact, and by extension the Elder Dragons. He said himself once that he didn't fear death, only failure. That was way before anything with Mordremoth."

"You can find untried mettle anywhere," Forgal says in awe. "Even in the desolate land of Orr."

Tiffany smiles weakly. "Trahearne is… he's pretty awesome."

"I assume you knew him a bit better in the future?" Forgal asks.

"Yeah, definitely. He was like my best friend… I didn't - haven't, for that matter - seen Logan much since I joined the Vigil, and you were dead - within the same day as I met Trahearne, in fact - and we worked together rather closely during the whole Pact campaign against Zhaitan."

"It must have been a shock to see him again," Forgal notes.

Tiffany nods. "It was. Later I told Fiona I was acting like a teenager whose first crush just noticed her."

Forgal laughs, a deep, rolling sound that conveys real mirth.

"Hey," Tiffany protests. "He was _dead_. And I saw him unexpectedly, too! I knew I was gonna see him on Claw Island, but then he up and surprised me one day and I was caught off guard! This guy's supposed to be _dead_, Forgal!"

"Get used to it," Forgal tells her. "Risen are all supposed to be dead. And apparently _I'm_ supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, but they _look_ dead. And sylvari can't even be resurrected by Zhaitan because they're technically Mordremoth's minions and so can't be corrupted. And it's different for each person. For you I was just really happy. I never had _time_ to properly think about the fact that you were dead." Actually she'd thought of it as just a game back then and hadn't particularly cared, plus Forgal's crazy sternness that took a while to break through so she hadn't really known him as well as she would've liked, but she is never telling that to Forgal even after telling him the other half of the secret. That was _years_ ago - even before she'd made herself believe that the video game was real. (And then had it confirmed by a crazy map.)

"Hey…" Forgal frowns mock-sternly. "That means you knew you were going to meet me when you joined the Vigil. You knew exactly what to say to get me to like you instantly, you sneaky little bugger."

Tiffany grins. "Would it help if I said it was completely true and I just knew to emphasize it better? Or perhaps had had a maturity growth spurt sometime after you died (and maybe because of it)?"

Forgal grunts. "Fair," he grins.

* * *

The day passes unbearably slowly. Tiffany spends time standing on the battlements, looking out to sea and thinking of all the adventures the Pact would have had in Orr - all the battles, astonishing discoveries, and victories - that will never happen, and mourning the loss of the Pact. It had, in the game, been her life. Since coming to Tyria, it had been her goal, and now she is adrift on the sea of life without a rudder.

They did not return home for the night - rather, they bunk with the Lionguard on the island. Tiffany is quiet and withdrawn, and doesn't talk.

* * *

The next day, Tiffany is looking at the partially-rebuilt wall that Blightghast had knocked down, replaying the events of Sunday in her head, when a titanic shriek rips through the sky.

It sounds like Blightghast when angry at Destiny's Edge, but much, much louder, and Tiffany jerks in surprise at the unexpected intrusion of the calm, her head spinning around to look out to sea where the scream had come from. A black cloud is speeding toward the island, much faster than clouds move, even with the strong wind in the right direction.

Forgal reacts immediately, and runs down to speak to the new Watch Commander - Deputy Mira, who had shown the most initiative during the fight on Claw Island - with Deborah on his heels.

Mira, however, is looking past them.

"Watch Commander Mira," Forgal says with a frown, "I think you and your soldiers should be on guard. I heard - "

Mira's face is ashen. "Yes. Look behind you."

Tiffany had watched the cloud separate into three clouds, then take on the details of dragons as they get within her sight. _Three_ Blightghasts are flying toward the solitary island. Tiffany's mouth hangs open. Three dragon champions (that are dragons themselves) are flying at Claw Island with many Dead Ships alongside, and all she can think is, '_overkill,_' then, '_so that's why the wind since yesterday has been so strong._' She doesn't stop to consider the fact that three isn't that much of overkill, given Destiny's Edge and the number of spare dragon champions Zhaitan has lying around.

All the Lionguard are frozen in terror. "GET OUT!" Forgal roars, jolting everyone to their senses. Tiffany dashes down from the battlements and joins her fellow Vigil. The three dragons are getting closer, and Risen are clambering up onto the beach.

"Evacuate, you fools!" Deborah yells, taking charge naturally - her time as a Seraph Sergeant had shown her how to be tough.

Mira had done a good job by putting a permanent guard on the watchtowers' control panel, but had overlooked a way to communicate with them.

Deborah takes on the duty of going up to alert them as Risen, led by the dragons, move to attack what Lionguard are still on the beaches.

Tiffany is still unsure what is going on. Isn't three a bit overkill? But Forgal takes Deborah's place in yelling at the slow Lionguard, and as they all flee toward the docks, the watchtowers spring to life, the brightly glowing lighthouses telling Lion's Arch that, yes, Claw Island has fallen _again_.

"Talon would kill me," Mira mutters. "Losing Claw Island _again_ within five days!"

At the docks, Deborah and the Lionguard that had been at the watchtowers catch up to them, with the Risen right behind.

"We don't have time to set sail before the Risen board us," Mira realizes.

Tiffany is jolted out of her fear- and depression-induced haze, and a pit of terror settles in her stomach. This is the _real_ repeat of Claw Island. Her eyes dart to Forgal nervously, but he hadn't heard Mira's remark, being ten feet away in a din of sailors and Lionguard. He also hadn't seen the Risen that are terribly near to the ship. Tiffany watches him warily for a moment - he is yelling at the sailors to get moving already - before tuning back into Mira's conversation.

Her heart misses a beat - maybe two - as Mira nods. "I will, Crusader Deborah. Now do what you will."

"Wait, what?" Tiffany asks stupidly.

Deborah salutes Mira, then Tiffany, then in Forgal's direction (he still hasn't noticed), then steps off the ship onto the dock.

Tiffany realizes too late what Deborah intends to do, and as the ship starts moving away, she shrieks. "No, Deborah!"

"You have to get to safety," Deborah says firmly. "Run. Now!"

"No! You're my sister!"

"You need to warn the Vigil. Warn Destiny's Edge. Warn everybody - even Destiny's Edge can't handle three of them," Deborah tells Tiffany as the first Risen reach her. "And stay safe." Deborah's blade comes out and she engages the mindless undead.

Tiffany tries to leap to the dock, panic setting in - this is _Deborah_ \- but Forgal grabs her shoulders and holds her back. Mira had evidently decided that the bigger man has a better chance of talking reason into Tiffany.

Forgal's face is stony as the ship catches the wind and picks up speed. Tiffany almost collapses in a boneless heap, but Forgal catches her. "She made her choice, Tiffany. We can only honor her sacrifice."

Tiffany wants to laugh bitterly at Forgal's unconscious echo of her words to Trahearne. She twists around in Forgal's arms and starts sobbing unreservedly into his chest, all the doubts, fears, worries she had bottled up for the last week, and now the shock of Deborah's sacrifice spilling over. Forgal awkwardly pats her on the head, unsure of how to handle an overly emotional human female. He also wonders what Tiffany thinks about Deborah taking his place in this timeline.

* * *

"You're home already?" Petra asks as Forgal and Tiffany arrive at the tavern. Tiffany is now in a state of shock, and Forgal is keeping an eye on her. "Weren't you sent out to Claw Island just earlier? And where is Deborah?"

Fiona comes down the stairs, looking confused. "Wait, you're home?" she echoes.

"Claw Island came under assault - again," Forgal says tiredly. "Tiffany was in no state to do anything except come home."

Fiona frowns. "Wait, where's Deborah?"

"She… " Forgal pauses, looking at Tiffany, whose face is bleak. "She didn't make it."

"She - what?" Petra asks faintly, steadying herself on the counter. "She's really - " she can't finish.

"Dead." Fiona says emptily, sitting down on the lowermost stair. "Deborah. She can't be."

Andrew comes up from the cellar, a stricken look on his face. "Deborah? No! Tell me its not true!"

"I'm afraid it is," Forgal says somberly.

Tiffany speaks for the first time, sounding shaken. "She - she sacrificed herself so we could escape."

Fiona glances at Forgal, and he can tell she is wondering why the game hadn't repeated itself, but Tiffany doesn't respond to the silent question, and neither does Forgal. He doesn't know himself why things had turned out differently.

"Well then, we should take advantage of that," Fiona says firmly. "We need to tell the Vigil."

Tiffany straightens. "She said - Deborah said to tell the Vigil and the Lionguard, tell _everybody_ \- there's three dragons like Blightghast on Claw Island now."

"Three?" Fiona demands in shock. "Why the overkill?"

"Hey, we'll need more than - " Tiffany stops abruptly, then her eyes light up in satisfaction. Forgal is unnerved by her abrupt change in attitude, even though he knows why. "We'll need more than Destiny's Edge to take out three of them."

Fiona's face lights up in understanding. "Well, let's move then. I'll tell Gixx, and maybe he can locate Sieran, and the Mortis Verge device should be ready by now - uh, you tell General Almorra. I've been learning how to Whisper, I'll get in contact with Vriré."

Tiffany waypoints out, followed by Forgal and Fiona. The three puffs of blue are settling in the tavern before Petra can grasp the news.

"Deborah is dead," she whimpers, sitting down hard on a chair that was conveniently behind her. "And my other children are going to die, too. Nobody can fight the Elder Dragons. Oh, my children." she starts crying softly, and Andrew joins her, his face full of grief.

* * *

"Warmasters?" General Almorra asks in surprise. "What brings you here?"

"Well…" Tiffany says absentmindedly. Her mind is spinning a mile a minute, processing the events of the day and the implications of three of Zhaitan's champions nesting on Claw Island. And avoiding the subject of Deborah.

Forgal picks up. "Three of Zhaitan's champions and a hoard of Risen with a veritable fleet of Dead Ships."

"Three?" the General gasps, taken off guard. She recovers quickly, though. "What are the particulars?" she snaps quickly. "Time is of the essence."

"There aren't many particulars, ma'am," Forgal tells her. "Crusader Deborah is dead and the Lionguard are aware."

"Fiona is alerting the Durmand Priory and the Order of Whispers," Tiffany speaks up.

The General nods. "Forgal, I want you to help me organize the Vigil. We're heading back to Lion's Arch again. Do you know if Crusader Vargok is within easy contact range?"

"No," Forgal replies. "I imagine either he's still at the Flame Citadel or else at the Black Citadel. He may even be near here."

General Almorra nods sharply. "Warmaster Tiffany, I want you to work your magic on Destiny's Edge - particularly Tribune Brimstone. Ask on behalf of the Vigil if he can spare any charr details to assist at Lion's Arch. I'm assigning you to follow Destiny's Edge around like a lost puppy and provide any assistance you can, be that in the form of Vigil troops or personal aid. I'm leaving the majority of this up to your discretion, Warmaster Tiffany - something I know you have a lot of. Move out!"

"Understood, General," Tiffany says, saluting, and she disappears in a puff of blue.

* * *

"Logan!" Tiffany calls. "Logan!"

No answer.

"He's not here, Advocate," a Seraph officer tells her.

Tiffany blinks; she's still Advocate of the Crown? Or is it just a fancy title now? She shakes her head. It doesn't matter. "Do you know where he went?" she asks.

"No idea," the man shrugs. "Something to do with Destiny's Edge, I'm sure. It's not like he's needed much around here anymore."

"Got it," Tiffany replies, and disappears again.

* * *

"Warmaster Tiffany reporting, sir!" Tiffany says, saluting.

Rytlock glances up. "You're not under my command any more, Tiffany," he tells her in amusement.

Tiffany shrugs. "Yeah, well… there's three dragon champions at Claw Island," she tells him.

Rytlock's jaw drops. "Three?" he sputters. "Three? By Gaheron's flaming left eye, Tiffany, are you pulling my tail?"

"Not at all," Tiffany tells him. "General Almorra sent me to ask if you have any warbands to assist in Lion's Arch… and also to help Destiny's Edge however I can."

Rytlock growls in frustration. "Three!" he huffs. "Don't worry about the warbands, Tiffany, we've plenty spare now. Go find Caithe or one of the others and tell them the situation. Meet up in Hoelbrak."

"On it," Tiffany tells him, saluting agian.

* * *

Back in Lion's Arch, she hesitates between the gates to Rata Sum and the Grove. She doesn't know where to look for her friends in either city; something she decides will have to be rectified as soon as the current panic-worthy but hopefully opportunity-granting threat is dealt with. She heads to Hoelbrak, praying that Eir will be home and able to contact her guildmates.

She nearly runs up the path to Stonewright's Steading, and doesn't even pause at the gate.

"Tiffany?" Eir asks in surprise.

Tiffany catches her breath. "There's three dragon champions at Claw Island. I don't know how to find Caithe or Zojja, I can't find Logan, and Rytlock's getting charr reinforcements. He said to meet up in Hoelbrak."

Eir seems to have a hard time processing this, and Tiffany doesn't think she heard anything past -

"_Three_?" the norn manages in shock. "We can't handle three!"

Tiffany grimaces, pushing back memories of Deborah. Beorn seems dubious of that but recognizes the need at the current time. "Yes, I know. I have… I have an idea for that, but we'll need all the help we can get."

Eir nods, still seemingly in shock. "Alright… you should…" she blinks suddenly, seemingly refocusing on Tiffany. "Yes. Go get Zojja - you said you didn't know where to find her… take Garm with you, he knows the way. I'll find Caithe."

Tiffany nods, and, with Garm at her side as well as Beorn, turns and hurries back through Hoelbrak. She suddenly wishes she could have gone to fetch Caithe instead, since she has a greater chance of seeing Trahearne and getting him in on what's going on, but she can find him after telling Zojja.

* * *

As soon as they enter Rata Sum, Garm takes off, running faster than Tiffany can keep up, but he drops back and stays at her speed after a moment. He's clearly used to his two-footed ally having longer legs, a thought that makes Tiffany smile in amusement.

Quite quickly, Garm leads her to a pyramid-like building, and Tiffany recognizes it immediately from the book's description of Snaff's ziggurat. She follows the wolf down into the center, feeling much more sure of herself (and the tiny part of her that had considered _Edge of Destiny_ to be just a story is silenced forever).

"Hey!" comes Zojja's distinctive voice - exceedingly annoyed but also with a hint of fondness - from within. "Garm! Stop that! What do you want? Wait, is this Beorn?" the bear had followed Garm in ahead of Tiffany.

Then Logan's familiar tone breaks in. "Yes, it is. That means Tiffany is here, as well."

As Tiffany's eyes adjust to the odd lighting within Snaff's lab, she takes in several worktables, and Zojja at the far end of the room. Logan has just looked up to see Tiffany standing by the entrance.

Zojja glances up from a mass of metal. "Tiffany? What are you doing here?"

Tiffany grimaces. "Well, I think Zhaitan is _really_ mad. Three champions at Claw Island."

Predictably, Zojja's jaw drops. "Three?" she snarls. "Three? What does that dragon _want_, total annihilation of his prime lieutenants?"

Logan is speechless.

Tiffany grimaces. "Well, you're more positive than your friends… actually, I'm sure Caithe is having a totally different - not important, not important, sorry. Anyway, Eir might or might not have an idea, but she was kind of absentminded for a moment before telling me to come find you, don't know if that means anything to you."

Zojja huffs. "Big Zojja - "

"Is this the third time she's broken? I've lost track," Logan inserts, still in shock. Apparently Destiny's Edge is better at understanding just exactly how massive the threat is than Tiffany.

"She is nowhere _near_ being complete, this sort of thing takes _months_," Zojja snaps. "We'll have to rely on other means. Eir might just have to be disappointed, but that depends. Come on you three," she says to Logan, Garm and Beorn. "We've got champions to massacre."

The small group quickly leaves the building and head to the asura gate. "Rytlock said we'd meet up in Hoelbrak," Tiffany tells them.

* * *

Fiona appears at the Durmand Priory waypoint and makes straight for Gixx's office.

"Ah, there you are, Magister Fiona," Gixx says cheerfully. "Are you ready to - "

"No, this is about something else," Fiona interrupts. "There are three dragon champions at Claw Island."

Gixx raises his eyebrows. "Under normal circumstances, I would assume you were joking, but you seem to be quite agitated. And this is certainly no joking matter. Luckily, Scholar Josir told me yesterday that the Mortis Verge device has been completed. Do you know where Sieran is?"

"No," Fiona says, shaking her head. "I was hoping you could tell me."

Gixx shakes his head. "No, I haven't a clue. Knowing her, she's off investigating some dwarven tomb. She takes more of an Explorer role than a Magister one, as I'm sure you have deduced. On the other hand, you take a far more - if I may - Vigil approach to dealing with Risen. As much as I despise the idea of charging in blindly, I believe you can do the most good with your sister - Tiffany, right? - bashing in the faces of the Risen. It is hard channeling magic through an item whose use is quite specific, anyway. Could you go to Lion's Arch and tell the Magister there that the Risen are incoming? Just a moment while I find Scholar Josir - you should take the Mortis Verge with you."

Fiona, slightly confused by the deft changes in topic, just nods while Gixx leaves the office.

A minute later, the asura is back with Scholar Josir, who, upon seeing Fiona, launches into an extremely technical explanation of how the device works.

"Stop, stop," Fiona says after a moment. "I can't understand a word you're saying. I know it masks people from undead so they don't bother you, does it do anything else?"

"It _repels_ them," Josir corrects her. "It incorporates the Aspect of Renewal, and necromancers can utilize their affinity for it to get results such as healing and draining lifeforce, but those are just side effects. However, the main function - masking the living from the undead - does not require any magic from the user and so anybody can use it."

"Does it do anything offensively without an affinity for Renewal?" Fiona asks. It doesn't matter if it doesn't, but she wants to make sure she isn't missing anything.

"If you target the Risen instead of yourself or your allies, it destroys them," Josir tells her with a slightly crazy smirk. "Being repelled from yourself is not good. I almost consider it as better in that case."

Fiona's face lights up in glee. "That is awesome. How many of them do we have?"

"We have about ten," Josir frowns. "But they're all previously tested and flawed prototypes."

"H - " Fiona cuts off her exclamation and bites her lip. Suggesting targeting a dragon champion would kill the Pact again if the Priory could just zap them. But the idea gives her a deep sense of satisfaction. So the Priory doesn't fight. They can still kill dragon champions… at least, a maybe super-powered form of the Mortis Verge device could. Instead, she frowns. "This is the only one that works?" she clarifies.

Josir nods. "And it is slow."

Fioan nods. "We'll have to rely on other methods. How does the targeting work? Can it lock on to groups?"

Josir nods. "It's a localized but mobile field that expells Risen away from the lifeforms within. Being a Risen within the field is not good - an animated corpse counts as a lifeform, and, like I said earlier, being repelled from yourself is not good. On the downside, somebody needs to carry it into the midst of the Risen."

Fiona nods, and glances at Gixx. "What do you think?"

"I think you would be the perfect candidate for utilizing the Mortis Verge," Gixx says promptly. "You can be very effective on your own and will be in the least danger… and you seem to like being on the front lines as well."

"Alright," Fiona nods. "Is there any way we can expand the field?" she asks Josir. "The living will be unaffected by this weapon, and the bigger radius the better."

Josir frowns. "It'll take quite a while - a few more notches on the sundial - but it is a minor change and should work. I can probably get a few of my associates fixing up some of the better prototypes to focus more on the offensive capabilities. They won't be done in nearly as short a time, but we can bring them on to the battlefield as they are completed."

"Great. Why don't you get to work on that," Fiona nods. "Gixx, where's the Priory base in Lion's Arch?"

"There isn't really," Gixx frowns. "Although, the reseach site west of the docks on Sanctum Harbor is a good spot for our purposes."

Fiona nods slowly. "Alright. Meet me there whenever it's ready. I need to speak to people in Lion's Arch and get a good handle on what's going on, I'll tell you the plan when you get there. A few ticks on the sundial, you said?"

"Yes, I'm certain I can get it done in that time frame," Josir nods.

"Alright - see you then," Fiona tells him. "And work as quickly as possible - time is of the essence.

"Of course," Josir replies.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Ended the chapter a bit early this time, but I liked it.

What do you think of my usage of the Mortis Verge? I've never understood why so many cunning devices discovered/found/invented/used/etc in the racial arc of the personal story were overlooked. So I expanded the Mortis Verge (the part about it repelling undead versus masking the user is not canonical) and put it to some good use (considering that Fiona is smart enough to ask Gixx about the wisdom of using the idol of Balthazar a few chapters ago and also not wanting to risk her soul being consumed and anxious enough to stop Sieran from using it (because I have no idea what type of 'strength' is required to not die and no idea if Fiona has it or not). Tiffany and Fiona are trying not to be overpowered PCs that can do anything they are asked/given the opportunity to do, but instead rather smart and good at thinking outside the box.

Also, I cheated. I realized that last night. Tiffany _should_ have had to have a lot of trouble convincing Forgal that the Pact is a good idea - his distrust of the Order of Whispers is very personal and more deep-seated than the everyday Vigil soldier's lack of respect and stuff.

But I decided that Tiffany should get the easy way out for once. I totally made up for it by killing Deborah and not giving anybody (except Andrew and Petra) time to mourn. Speaking of Deboah, I also gave you guys a touch of foreshadowing in the form of an altered Gandalf line (run/evacuate, you fools!) but I'm not sure if anyone caught that. Again, I am evil for killing her. I know you'll never forgive me. Alas, I am afraid I have lost the innate trust that I would never kill somebody. I have broken the sacred pledge made when Beorn returned. Oh, shame! (I was being overly dramatic and weepy there. I'm really a calculating, cold-hearted storytelling genius.)

I also _really_ wanted to cliffhanger that, but it wouldn't have worked. I couldn't even cliffhanger the three dragon champions, just because of the rate at which everybody realized what they were. Wah. I like my cliffies… but you guys would've murdered me if I'd found a way to cliffie the thing with Deborah. Ooh! Maybe have Mira look straight at Tiffany when she says her thing about not having enough time, then cut the chapter. You'd all panic thinking Tiffany was about to die or turn into a super-powered ninja and defeat all the Risen plus three dragon champions, neither of which would have been good for my story, and then be horribly let down next chapter by it being Deborah.

Also, Josir and Fiona both mentioned 'ticks/notches on a sundial.' The sundial is what Tiffany and Fiona's Tyrian 'watches' are based off of (and who at the _Durmand Priory_ wouldn't have one of those) and I've decided that a tick/notch equals one hour. They just don't call them hours in Tyria.

But that's beside the point. Have a nice wait for the next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9: Defending the Arch

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Fiona scouts out the city. Destiny's Edge needs time, so Tiffany goes to find allies to keep the Risen back. Tiffany finds Braham and his friends and Forgal picks up a norn named Fibharr and his friends. Vriré sends a message to Trahearne to come to Lion's Arch. Forgal and his people are told to defend Macha's Landing and Tiffany's friends defend the asura gates. Josir shows up and Fiona utilizes the Mortis Verge to great effect. Destiny's Edge show up in Lion's Arch at the asura gates, making Braham angry when he realizes that Tiffany was friends with Eir. Vriré activates the Whispers-level defenses of the city. Tiffany and her team are failing at holding the asura gates, so Braham destroys them and they retreat.

* * *

Chapter nine: Defending the Arch

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Alright, this was really fun to write. I especially liked the sections about each Order and how it operates and how it differs from the others… I really like those parts.

Oh! And Happy Easter!

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

Apparently, the Lionguard are busy dealing with civilians, but they have a good scouting system set up. The Risen seem to be moving in already - no surprise, Zhaitan probably learned its lesson about waiting too long - and are aiming primarily at Fort Marriner, although a goodly number are heading toward the Priory research site that Josir will be meeting Fiona at later.

Fiona decides that it is a good thing she is meeting Josir there, as she will probably be able to deal with a lot of that wave of Risen. At least, when Josir gets here. The Lionguard estimate for when they'll arrive is… not encouraging. Josir better hurry.

She writes off a quick letter to Vriré - in a mix of New Krytan and Whispering - and gets it sent off soon. She is quite sure, however, that the Order already knows due to Agents in the city. But Vriré will likely want a firsthand account.

She does hope that the Risen won't follow the water channels to get up inside the city - Trader's Forum is surrounded by water and the first waterway off of Sanctum Harbor snakes around the top of the Western Ward. The eastern side of the city is mostly water, and, while the area is not heavily populated, there is quite easy access to the Durmand Priory from the Postern Ward.

And who _ever_ thought that sticking the asura gate hub on a wooden island barely connected to the rest of the city was a good idea? Risen could topple that thing quite quickly - or invade the other cities. Fiona wonders if protecting the gate hub is a priority.

The Vigil seem to be mustering at Fort Marriner, though, and several details have been sent throughout the city on patrols.

Fiona _likes_ this job. It feels very sneaky and Whispers. She's keeping tabs on a lot of the things going on in the city - helped by random people with auras giving her a heads up now and then about the state of certain areas - and she feels quite… in control of things.

Knowing one very possible future (or at least having a sister that shares it all with you), being a member of the Order of Whispers, and being able to visualize the Mortis Verge working its magic on Risen will probably do that to a person, Fiona decides.

She frowns as she recalls what one particularly nervous Whispers Agent had told her - random Agents and Lightbringers keep disappearing outside the Chantry. Enough have gone that a few of the more paranoid ones are getting worried. And nobody knows when or where - and they aren't dead, or their aura would have reported it.

Fiona had asked if there was a general time frame, but nobody knows. Sometimes a person leaves the Chantry and just doesn't come back - and this has been going on for ages - months. Only a few - one every now and then - and it could be put down to 'natural' deaths (losing a battle, being discovered by whoever they're infiltrating, etc)… but it is worrying.

It is only about two sundial ticks before the Risen start approaching the Priory site. Fiona grimaces and readies her Deception, wondering where Sieran is. She desperately hopes the flighty sylvari isn't in trouble, but knowing Sieran, she either is and it doesn't matter (aka tomb raiding) or she is and it does matter (aka ambushed by Risen).

Well. Fiona can (probably) hold this place against Risen until Josir gets here. There are a few other Priory here under normal circumstances, but they'd heard that Risen were likely attacking and they had gotten out. They were researching a tame subject in a safe port city, and were not exactly prepared for a fight.

So she is holding the beach alone, but she can make do until Josir arrives. It shouldn't be long - a few sundial ticks, Josir had said, and it has already been two. Maybe one more.

Fiona considers the blackness spreading toward her from the water. They aren't coming for _her_, so she can't disguise her presence and expect them to walk away. It wouldn't work, anyway - Fiona recalls what Trahearne had said once, a long time ago, about visual illusions not working on Risen. The Mortis Verge must be some sort of miracle… or just common sense entwined with Renewal.

Nine other Fionas spring up along the beach, each preparing magical orbs of condition-inflicting light. The number of other illusions is just for more attack power and speed - if the Risen can see through Deceptive disguises and veils, they can certainly see through Deceptive illusions.

* * *

Tiffany is worried. Eir had told her that what Destiny's Edge needs most right now is time.

That means the Vigil has to hold off the Risen from Lion's Arch until Destiny's Edge can make their move… but Tiffany knows that the Vigil can't hold of the Risen. Not alone.

She finds General Almorra at Fort Marriner and explains the need to hold off the Risen until Destiny's Edge is ready.

"…and from all that I know about Destiny's Edge," she finishes, "they tend to take a long time with the planning side. The only time they did anything in under weeks or months was fighting Kralkatorrik, and, well…"

General Almorra nods. "We will get the time we need then, Warmaster. However, I doubt the Vigil can do it alone."

Tiffany, who had been frowning over General Almorra's shoulder at the wall in thought, snaps her gaze to the charr's in stunned surprise. General Almorra is suggesting this?

The leader of the Vigil doesn't seem to notice Tiffany's surprise, though, and continues, "the Vigil has several allies to call upon - most notably the charr. Tribune Brimstone seemed to understand it was mostly because of you, Forgal and Crusader Vargok that half the offensives leading up to the Citadel of Flame succeeded. However, I'm sure we'll need more than them. We simply do not have enough soldiers on such short notice, and the Lionguard are busy with the civilians."

General Almorra frowns down at her desk thoughtfully and shifts through some paperwork.

Tiffany opens her mouth to suggest allying with the other Orders, but she realizes that Almorra had been looking for something when the charr nods in satisfaction.

"We need warriors of extraordinary capability, Warmaster Tiffany. I will not hope to get more fighters of such skill as yourself and Forgal, but I have heard of a norn named Fibharr Ygosson that has been making his name in the tournaments."

Tiffany perks up. She remembers Fibharr, albeit hazily. "I can go find him," she offers.

The General nods. "The tournaments are held in Kyesjard, and you'll likely find him there."

Tiffany frowns as Almorra points out on the map where it is. "I don't have any waypoints there," she notes.

General Almorra nods thoughtfully. "I know Forgal does, though. I'll send him. Any ideas on other strong-fisted fighters?"

Tiffany sighs internally and decides that the meeting with the Pale Tree hasn't happened yet, and the Pact didn't happen until after that… right? Her memories are rusty with time. Of course, good fighters… not counting Destiny's Edge… her mental list of allies that help her take down Elder Dragons is slightly lengthy. "Does Trahearne count?" she asks.

General Almorra smiles. "I wouldn't say he is particularly a 'strong-fisted fighter,' but it wouldn't hurt to let him know about the current threat."

Tiffany nods. Kasmeer, Marjory, Canach, Taimi, Braham, Rox - wait, Braham is a viable option. She knows him better than anyone else on the list, he has two friends that are also fairly decent - Malena and Reistr - and he'd helped her take down Mordremoth. "I do know of a small group that could help," she tells General Almorra. "Braham and his friends are rather good - I took an hour or so once to train them when I was stopping by Cragstead. They're young, true, but…" an idea occurs to Tiffany that she'd never contemplated before. "We might be able to recruit them permanently afterward."

"Cragstead?" the General checks, glancing at the map on the wall. "It's far, but I assume you have the waypoints?"

Tiffany nods. "I do, and they have waypoints in Hoelbrak, as well."

"Good. You go there and get them, and I'll send Forgal to get Fibharr. Be quick, Warmaster Tiffany. I don't think the Risen will wait any longer than they have to."

"Understood," Tiffany says.

"And, Warmaster Tiffany? Waypoint as as a Vigil Warmaster."

Tiffany nods. Waypointing as a member of an organization takes the cost of waypointing off of the individual and places it on the organization instead, similar to how waypointing to the Vigil Keep waypoint has a lowered cost. She disappears in a puff of blue to the asura gate hub.

* * *

The mail from Fiona finds Vriré preparing to head out. She scans the Whispered letter with a practiced eye. Fiona's assumption that she already knows of the attack but would like a firsthand account (technically secondhand, but Fiona got it straight from Tiffany, and that counts) is correct.

Vriré heads to the Record Room and brings up Trahearne's file. She scans the list of Whispers contacts. Lightbringer Tybalt Leftpaw - perfect. His partner - Agent Kennan - is a sylvari.

She quickly writes her own Whispering message to the jovial charr, telling him to take his partner and tell Trahearne what had happened at Claw Island. Just as a heads up, of course. She includes Fiona's letter - which had very little other information - for the Lightbringer to show Trahearne.

* * *

"Tiffany?" Braham asks, spotting the familiar human entering Cragstead. "What are you doing here?"

"Recruiting you," she grins at him. Braham blinks, and she continues, "you know what Claw Island is, right?"

Braham nods, and by this time Malena and Reistr have noticed Tiffany and made their way over as well. "It's the island that keeps the Risen away from Lion's Arch."

Tiffany nods. "Well, it's come under attack by dragon champions. Three of them. The Vigil are working hard to keep the Risen away until…" she blinks once, then continues, "until the proper means can be mustered to combat it. However, we don't have enough people, and I thought you three would like to help."

Braham smirks. "You kidding or what? Let's go bash in some Risen!"

Malena smirks. "Maybe I'll get to see how the Aspect of Renewal fares against these corpses."

Tiffany's eyes light up. "I should introduce you to Trahearne, he uses Renewal and he's been studying Risen his whole life. I've seen him use a few tricks that are quite sneaky."

"Really? Sounds interesting," Malena shrugs. "Well, I'll never turn down an opportuniy to beat up dragon minions."

"We'll Renew them so bad they're _actually_ alive again!" Reistr suggests.

"That's not _possible_, Reistr, and you know it," Malena sighs, rolling her eyes.

"You're ruining the moment," Braham sighs. "Let's just get moving and bash their heads in, yeah?"

"I knew you'd say that," Tiffany smirks. "Waypointing to Hoelbrak is on the Vigil this time, so let's move."

Braham smirks back at her and puffs into Hoelbrak alongside his friends. Tiffany appears a moment later.

"Alright you three, let's get moving," she tells them, and turns toward the asura gate, which is right next to them.

"Yes, Crusader Tiffany," Braham says, mock-saluting and falling in line behind her.

"It's Warmaster now," Tiffany tosses back smugly as she steps through the purple portal. The three norn follow her.

Tiffany takes off across a bridge and soon leads them a stone fort.

"This is Fort Marriner," she tells them, "the Vigil's base in Lion's Arch. We'll get our orders from General Almorra - I'm sure she'll let us stick together - and then it won't be long before we're dominating the battlefield."

"Lead on, O great and mighty Warmaster," Reistr intones, and Tiffany barks a laugh.

The human leads them through the archway in the stone wall, and Braham's eyes open wide. There are people of all races here. Asura fighting alongside charr and sylvari competing with norn.

Quite soon, Tiffany finds and introduces them to "General Almorra Soulkeeper. General, this is Braham, Malena and Reistr. How can we help?"

"I'd like you and your allies to defend the gate hub," General Soulkeeper informs them. "It is relatively isolated and on the water, and is a prime target for the Risen. Your job is to prevent the Risen from getting to the other cities."

"On it, General." Tiffany salutes, and Braham copies her before following the woman back in the direction they had come from.

* * *

Forgal and the over-pompous norn Fibharr and the others that had wanted to join them have been assigned to Macha's Landing, a set of docks between the asura gate hub to the east and a Priory site to the west. He hopes Destiny's Edge can either come up with a viable plan or else let Tiffany's Pact idea fall into place properly - and soon.

The Risen start coming, and the group of norn on the docks fall into battle stances.

The Vigil will hold back the tide. The Vigil will protect the city of Lion's Arch, and die for it. The Vigil will cull Zhaitan's army, and with it, the dragon's greatest strength. The Vigil may die to save the innocents, may die in this possibly unwinnable conquest… but each and every soldier will take down many Risen. For every soldier that joins Zhaitan's army, the dragon loses ten. Or twenty. Fifty or a hundred.

Let the Durmand Priory attempt to find the answers in musty old tomes. A spell here. An invention there. But nothing firm, nothing dependable. Things that can be used merely once, or at little benefit to the user. Nothing repeatable. Nothing firm. Nothing to chop Zhaitan's forces to ash. Let the Order of Whispers attempt to sneak and cheat and expect to deal any steady amount of harm to Zhaitan's forces. An explosion here. An ambush averted there. A few victories… but nothing solid. How many of the Order fall to Zhaitan? How many did those soldiers slay before being taken themselves?

Do the other Orders make up their cost in bodies? Can they keep up with their debt? Are they a help in some random, obscure ways… or are they impeding the efforts of the Vigil? Are they rendering the death of a brave soul in vain by returning to Zhaitan a body to use in place of the one slain by a mighty warrior?

The Order of Whispers and the Durmand Priory seek information. They seek it in different places; but still they seek to find the dragon's secret.

The Vigil know that the dragon has no secret. The dragon is overwhelming in its power and dominion… but the Vigil will not seek a way around it. The Vigil will not search for a loophole. The Vigil will fight it directly. The Vigil will take the fight to the enemy, will take its army and retaliate with their own. Information on how to circumvent the dragon's rule is not necessary… not when there is no way to circumvent the dragon's rule. The Vigil will stand against it until the dragon falls. The only way to match strength is with strength.

And so the Vigil will stand against the tide. The Vigil will hold back the corruption. The Vigil will take Zhaitan's army and return it to the dust - however long it takes. The Vigil will take down Zhaitan's army man by man if necessary. They will soak Orr in blood and pave Arah in bodies if that is what it takes. They will fight every step of the way, falling like leaves if called to do so.

But the Vigil will never give to Zhaitan what it does not take back tenfold.

* * *

Tiffany puts an arrow on the string and starts shooting the Risen as they beeline for the wooden structure holding up the gates.

As they get closer, Malena's Renewal starts taking the Risen. She forces their bodies to breath and their hearts to beat, and as water rushes into their lungs, the lack of ogygen to a newly-healed brain kills the already dead Risen, effectively wiping Zhaitan's control until the dragon can reassert its corruption. There is a reason it is the Aspect of _Renewal_ and yet so… deathy.

Braham's mace swings into the first Risen to clamber up the sides of the wooden supports, and purifying flame eradicates the body. Reistr's blade flashes as it cleaves Risen skulls, and Beorn's claws rend Risen brains apart.

Each of the five defend one of the gates as the onslaught of Risen continues.

Then, the gate to the Grove flares and three people step out - a charr and a sylvari that Tiffany does not recognize, and Trahearne.

The three of them seem slightly startled to have stepped into the middle of a battle, but they recover quickly.

"Do you need help, Initiate?" the charr asks, and Tiffany blinks. Alright, so a member of the Order then.

"No, I don't think so," she replies. "We're holding on fine."

The charr nods. "You're Lightbringer Vriré's student, aren't you? Keep it up, kid. Kennan, we've got places to be! See you later, Trahearne."

"I hope so," the sylvari replies almost cryptically, but Tiffany feels a pang of loss as realizes that Trahearne is hoping this charr doesn't die. Tiffany bites her lip and tries not to think about Deborah. Dissolving into tears _here_ would be catastrophic… apparently different people dying invoke different emotions in her. Fighting harder to avenge Deborah like should be happening isn't working. Deborah had barely known death and the risk involved.

Okay, she had been a Screaming Sergeant of the Seraph and knew all about the death and risk, but she was fighting centaurs, not dragons, and… somehow, there's a world of difference. And somehow it affects how Tiffany releases tension regarding her death.

"So you've heard about Claw Island?" Tiffany asks him.

Trahearne nods. "I may be able to help in some way. Last time turned out… catastrophically." He sighs. "However, Talon's reasons were quite valid..."

Tiffany frowns at him. "What, you mean…"

"I'm no general," Trahearne shrugs. "He was quite right about that."

Tiffany fights to hold in her laughter. "Don't you believe that for a moment, Trahearne," she grins. "I'm sure you'd be an excellent general."

Trahearne looks at her dubiously but doesn't argue.

"Uh, Tiffany," Braham notes with an unreadable note in his voice. Tiffany knows it well from the game… although she doesn't quite know what it means. Probably a mixture of excitement as well as the recklessness that is a part of the norn's nature and perhaps a hint of fear, or maybe respect for the power of the enemies. "We've got company."

Tiffany glances out over the normally clear waters of Sanctum Harbor, now darkening quickly with Risen walking beneath the waves. "Let's slaughter us some Risen," she shrugs simply. "Do you want to stick around, Trahearne?" she asks.

The sylvari nods and draws his magical foci - scepter and focus - while Tiffany notes that he is not wielding Caladbolg. It looks slightly odd, seeing him without it, although not too much after watching him fight on Claw Island.

The Risen swarm up the wooden structure holding the asura gates above the water. Tiffany switches to her axes and fights alongside Beorn, keeping them back. She is not worried, despite the glassy stare of Risen and the clammy coldness of the Risen themselves as she cuts her way through the masses, or the black ichor trailing behind their fingers.

She has the well-oiled machine of her and Beorn, as well as Braham - a quite capable fighter in his own right, he'd helped her take down Mordremoth - which has to say something about his fighting capability _and_ his mental power - as well as Trahearne, somebody she definitely will never protest to having on her side. Not to mention Malena and Reistr, which are untried talent in the realm of her future knowledge, but who seem to be holding up quite well.

* * *

After what seemed like endless ages of fighting Risen - blasting them with her multicolored magical orbs or zapping them with beams of chaos energy (which is Deception told to go crazy and do whatever) or creating illusionary swords beneath her targets - Josir finally arrives.

Fiona and her nine clones had held the line on the beach, but she is nearly exhausted for the day, and the sight of Josir with the device cheers her up considerably.

She sets her staff aside and activates the device as the Risen swarm around her, taking advantage of the momentary lull in the mesmeric opposition.

As soon as the device activates, the Risen around her puff into nonexistent particles, each atom of the undead servants repelled from the others. The Risen in a very wide radius around her practically disappear as the Mortis Verge heats up. Fiona's eyes widen at the prompt and decisive action by the Mortis Verge, and Fiona gives a thumbs up and a huge smile to Josir.

The Scholar returns the thumbs up and then waypoints out to work on the other prototypes.

Fiona charges into the midst of another group of Risen and activates the cooling Mortis Verge device. A heartbeat passes, then another, and the Risen are still there and focused on her. Fiona reaches for Deception, before realizing that she isn't holding a focus and the Mortis Verge doesn't channel Deception. She has no way of defending herself, and her eyes widen in panic. Then, the Risen go poof, the device heating up again. '_Oh, I can't let it overheat,_' Fiona realizes. '_And it apparently has some sort of safety feature to make sure it doesn't… wonder what happens if it does. Maybe it makes __**me**__go poof._'

The mesmer wonders how to tell when it's done cooling, and finds a gauge on one side of the rather large device. '_The Priory never does anything by half,_' she marvels.

Once the Mortis Verge cools down sufficiently, she equips her aquabreather and dives into the water. Once she is sufficiently surrounded by Risen, she activates the device and hopes the Risen don't reach her before it is usable again.*

Ha! The Priory can't fight. Ha! The Priory can beat up as many undead as the Vigil - more and faster, too. Fiona smirks. None of the other Orders can deny the Priory's effectivity after this.

The Vigil can fight excellently. But they are wasting manpower. When _this_ can be achieved by a single invention, why let the people die? Why feed Zhaitan's army when hundreds could die in a day with only a few living amongst a sea of undead?

The Order of Whispers pick up information like dragons pick up minions. But all the information they have is amongst the living and the sane. Any information to gather from the dragons now can be picked up instead from the vast libraries of the Priory. Any attempt to battle the dragon to find it's weaknesses is a waste - a waste of bodies, a dangerous gift to Zhaitan - when, instead, even the peaceful folk could be reading and studying past battles. Any information gained now can be learned from the past.

You just have to look for it.

And then you have to use it.

Nobody thinks the Priory ever uses it. Sometimes, the Priory does not. But when it matters, the Durmand Priory can step out ahead of anybody. Sometimes the inventions fail. Sometimes the knowledge comes too late. But only too late for a single battle. Next time Zhaitan sends its forces, the Priory is ready.

And so they call the Durmand Priory irregular. No. It is the dragon that is irregular. The Durmand Priory systematically searches information, and finds it and uses it, putting it to use in inventions or methods or logic puzzles to find the next missing chunk of the necessary information.

And from that, after years… something will come of it. Something awesome, something excellent. Something truly effective… like the Mortis Verge.

With only one, it is severely limited. Almost a minute between activation times, depending on how much energy was expended before. With a hundred, the battlefield could be cleared in minutes. There must be a detonating version - with a much larger radius for defeating more Risen and not needing to care about overheating since it is thrown or catapulted.

The Mortis Verge is merely the first. The gun… and the grenade will follow. Then the trebuchet or cannon.

The Durmand Priory is not an order of foolish girls reading books. It is an institution of learning and invention to rival the asura colleges… and the Durmand Priory _will_ be recognized for their work.

The Vigil can fight and lose their men and feed the dragon's army. The Order of Whispers can ignore the past and learn from the present and utilize the future. But the Durmand Priory will find the past. Their logicians will put together the information into spells and machines, and the Explorers and Magister-Explorers will take the newly minted weapons and rain devastation on their enemies.

The Vigil and the Order of Whispers are fighting, losing people and feeding the dragon's army. The Priory does not fight. The Priory waits. The Durmand Priory will strike when they have the power… and until then, their own numbers will remain the same. Their brilliant minds will stay within the walls of the Durmand Priory, analyzing and studying and inventing… and one day, the dragon will be devastated, and not a man lost of the scholar-army of the Durmand Priory.

* * *

Braham thinks that they are doing pretty well, although the Risen do seem to be pushing them back.

"Trahearne," Tiffany says eventually,"can you find the nearest asura that can handle these gates to come turn them off? We can't hold them much longer."

"Of course," Trahearne agrees. He turns and sprints off.

"Don't worry, Tiffany," Braham tells her with a cheerful grin. "We can always just knock them over."

Tiffany barks a laugh. "Right. That should do it."

"Hey," Malena protests. "There's asura on the other side of the gates. We could've just poked our heads through and told them to turn them off."

"I'm _so_ stupid," Tiffany sighs.

"Are not," Braham retorts.

"Are too!" Reistr says cheerfully, and Tiffany laughs. Braham and Malena - foregoing the normal dramatic gestures that normally go with this ritual so that they can continue fighting Risen - groan.

"The tragedy!" they declare in woeful voices. "Two of our friends are friends no longer!"

"But," Malena notes, getting back to business,"we don't have enough people to spare one to poke their head through a gate. We'll have to wait until Trahearne returns."

"We might not be able to," Tiffany tells them. "Be ready to break these gates if necessary."

Braham and his friends nod and go back to mercilessly slaughtering the Risen.

Braham notices a large group of Risen incoming and erects a shimmering blue shield to keep them away from the gate he is defending while he bashes their brains in.

"There you are, Tiffany," a dreaded, familiar voice say, and Braham freezes, facing away from the gates. He knows that voice. It belongs to a face that belongs to the name his father had whispered to him as he lay dying. A name that is, in Braham's mind, barely even connected to its face due to unfamiliarity, and certainly bears no resemblance to who she should have been. She is barely more to him than to any other norn - only the knowledge of what should have been making them any closer than they are.

"Need help?" another voice asks.

"We can't stay long," chimes in another, feminine tone, "but we can help for a minute."

"Yes, and thank you," Tiffany says, relief in her tone. "Good to see you guys."

"Tiffany," that familiar voice says. Braham, scowling outright now, turns as _his mother_ continues, "I'm afraid we can't deal with the three champions on our own. Big Zojja can't be rebuilt in anything like enough time. We don't have any equipment, little to no forewarning, and - "

"Wait." Braham glares at Tiffany, then Eir, who hadn't even noticed him until he spoke up. "You two know each other?" his cold voice cuts through the suddenly silent platform.

"You know Braham?" Eir asks Tiffany with a frown, her eyes darting to Braham, then back to Tiffany.

"Yes," Tiffany says, eyes darting between the two of them in a slightly confused way. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls into an O. "You're _related?_" she asks in surprise.

"You told me you'd never met her," Braham snarls at Tiffany. People not telling him things that he should know _really_ annoys him. The fact that the subject had even been brought up once makes it so, _so_ much worse.

"That was back when I had only seen her like once and we didn't even speak!" Tiffany protests. "I'm friends with Logan, of course I got to know his friends a bit since then!"

"Hey, don't drag me into this," says the other human - Logan - holding up his hands.

Tiffany rolls her eyes at him, before looking at Braham again and opening her mouth as if to speak.

"Hold on," the charr says, holding up a paw. "Tiffany is friends with this Braham fellow - " Tiffany nods promptly " - and Braham is related to Eir - " Eir nods " - and Tiffany didn't tell either of you that she knew the other?" Braham nods jerkily.

The charr huffs. "How is that a problem? She knew two random norn and had no reason to expect they were related. You don't look like each other much, you know," he tells the two norn. "Except the hair."

Braham's expression just darkens at Rytlock's comment. He _knows_ how dissimilar he is to his mother - only just similar enough to distance him ever so slightly from his father. Dissimilar enough - thank Raven - to not be recognized as Eir's son unless one had more information. He would rather be his father's child than Eir's biological offspring. That's really all he is to her. That it is in his _name_ that the term 'son' is used… that is a word indicative of familiarity, a term of endearment that carries memories of comfort. Not the word one would use to describe somebody who abandoned you.

"So what's the problem between you?" the sylvari asks. "You don't seem very friendly."

Braham glances at Eir in time to meet her gaze. He snaps his eyes back to the sylvari, huffing stubbornly. Eir sighs. Braham doesn't bother trying to figure out the emotion behind it. She hadn't cared about him all his life; why should he care what she feels.

"Hey, I appreciate the fact that you're in the middle of a touching family reunion," Malena says sarcastically, "but we're lucky the Risen have held off for a moment while you argue. Can we fight _while_ we talk, please?"

"Yes, mother," Tiffany quips in what is obviously intended to be a joke. Braham does not think it is funny right now, _nor_ is this an appropriate time to be joking.

Malena rolls her eyes and Braham sighs in frustration. "This isn't over," he snarls to Tiffany angrily. "We'll discuss this later."

Tiffany just nods, swallowing slightly. As she enters the fray again, she asks the asura - Zojja, apparently - wether she can turn off the asura gates, to which the reply is some technical jargon that seems capable of being summed up in 'no.'

Braham just scowls and bashes in a Risen head. He swings his mace with vigor, fueled by anger and resentment, and manages to plow through a good many more Risen before Destiny's Edge finally have to go.

Eir seems to linger for a moment, but Braham ignores her. Spirits know she'd ignored him for his whole life. What mother does that? His father had been there for him for seven years, had _died_ in that duty… and even though he knows that Eir hadn't heard of Borje's death, he still feels a pit of fury that she didn't return when he died. He knows his father's reasons… but they seem empty and hollow to Braham, who had never known his mother. They are based on love and trust, neither of which Braham feels towards his mother.

Eir is a stranger to Braham. He acknowledges only biological ties, and nothing more. But what should have been taints everything. Eir can never be Braham's mother. They might get to know each other better - maybe. Perhaps. Someday in the far distant future. But never his mother, and never his friend.

* * *

Vriré has hooked her A-Key up to the Order's special aura system in Lion's Arch, expanding her A-Key's range and intensity throughout the whole city. As the Whisperers scatter, gathering allies to help repel the Risen from the canals and waterways that jab their fingers into the city. Her map of the city (and sense of how far each aura is from her own location) enables her to map the Whispers presence in the city.

Then the allies' auras begin appearing - a clear aura, to show the temporary nature of the assistance, but clear as heated air; warped and twisted. Clear as glass; see-through but identifiable. Clear as a mirror; silvery and solid, _knowing_ that it is there.

Vriré notes Fiona's aura down by the beach, felling Risen. Earlier, the asura had noted the device that one of her Priory friends had brought her. It destroys Risen quickly, but the time it takes to cool down is a huge setback. Fiona can defend herself, but the Risen are getting past her in the lulls. The Whisperers will deal with the threat, and Fiona is holding a large number of them back.

The Whispers defense mechanisms snap into place, funneling Risen to choke points held by capable Whisperers through illusionary walls - illusions that are only visible through Risen eyes - placed across streets. The illusions draw from a central power force. It charges up with magic when not in use by drawing magic from several charge-stones throughout the city. One is at the asura gates and draws magic at a steady rate. No non-Whispers asura maintenance of the gates suspects it, and they assume that this is just how much magic these particular gates require to stay up. Another is at the Mystic Forge, and nobody in the slightest knows much about the Mystic Forge, so it is safe. A few other places that are charged with magic have these charge-stones, as well.

All in all, their Risen misdirection scheme is quite set-up and prepared, and the Risen take their prescribed route to slaughter. Unfortunately, these routes are not isolated and many people are still in danger, but the Order does their best.

The Lionguard will get the civilians to safety, retreating to the next safe haven and hoping the dragons stop there, hoping to find another miracle like Claw Island. The Vigil will attempt to stand against the incoming, inevitable wave. The Durmand Priory will test their devices and gain new - or gained but lost in the extensive archives - information about events and races and lands long past. The Order of Whispers will bend and twist and become a sieve, catching the information so vital to continued survival and letting through that which does not matter. The Order will learn from this experience - _this_ one - to better redirect the brunt of the attack next time. And so they will operate, learning through each attack how their enemy operates, until they can strike back with proper force.

The Vigil expect to retaliate harshly, teaching their enemies a lesson as many times as it takes. The Priory expect the attack to wait until they are ready, studying and learning and inventing. The Lionguard expect to be a rock upon which all oppostition crashes… but when the rock falls, so too must that which it protects. The Order of Whispers expects nothing, and will react as a reaction, gaining the information to kill or neutralize until the time comes to act.

The Order of Whispers will learn. And eventually, however long it takes… the Order of Whispers will retaliate. The Order of Whispers will have the information to end the threat in one, decisive blow. The other organizations can fight the zombie in front of their face or try to dredge up memories best laid to rest or stubbornly refuse to believe that things could change…

But the Order of Whispers will work in the shadows, changing and adapting to the land. The Order of Whispers will still be here in a hundred years… and with so much more information. If the Order of Whispers is not yet ready… then the Order of Whispers will wait. The Order of Whispers can afford to wait… they aren't racing a clock or an enemy.

They are playing 'who can wait the longest?' and the Elder Dragons are losing.

* * *

"Retreat!" Forgal hollers. The docks are not worth keeping. He and his men fall back to dry land, a pass sandwiched between a cliff on one side and water on the other… not that stops the RIsen.

Forgal curses as the Risen enter the city through the water. But he and his men are holding back many more in their current position - the Risen are too stupid to take the waterways unless they are already in the water - so he stays, hoping the Lionguard or other Vigil can deal with the threat.

Forgal's blade slices through Risen after Risen, taking down the rotten bodies expertly. Blackwing isn't here - the ache of her absence is worse in battle - but he has allies at his side and friends at his back.

He sees the asura gate platform being swarmed with Risen, and a pit of horror forms in his stomach before he sees four heroes fighting back the tide - Tiffany and some norn he recognizes from Hoelbrak, though he doesn't know their names. And Beorn, of course.

But they are losing; two of the gates are encased in guardian shields while the five defenders keep them off of the other three. A gate flares and a Risen disappears - his friends are losing. The Risen are getting into the other cities.

He hears Tiffany's voice, and the norn with red hair swings his mace into a gate. The purple magic flickers but remains steady, and he swings again. The gate shudders and rocks. Again, and the gate crumbles, the magic flickering out.

The kid moves to the next one as his friends keep the Risen off of him and the other gates. After a few swings, it crumbles as well. The third gate falls, then the fourth.

The Risen are now focusing on the last gate, and Forgal watches as several make it through. At last, the norn kid breaks the last one and the team beats a hasty retreat.

The defending team hold the bridge to Grand Plaza, though, stopping many Risen from passing them.

Forgal returns his attention to his own battle and decides to retreat farther. He gives the command and his team hurry back along the path… and then they are sandwiched between two hordes of Risen. They must have circled back to get them.

Well. The Vigil fight best when cornered. Forgal lets loose a roar of fury and becomes half-raven, his companions following him in various different forms. They fight, slaying many Risen and working their way back to the main part of the city. And still the Risen come.

Forgal and his allies fight for hours, the Spirits refreshing them and making them strong as the norn take on their physical characteristics.

Tiffany and her allies destroy many Risen at the bridge, never budging. A sylvari joined the group at some point, and the gates are an excellent funnel-point by virtue of the stupidity of the undead.

A few Lionguard join Forgal and his allies - apparently the civilians are mostly safe now, and there probably aren't any Risen in the inner city any more - and Operation: Focus On Killing Risen commences.

About an hour after that, the tide of Risen slows to a trickle. After a few more hours, there are hardly any Risen left, and the city is safe.

Nobody that anyone talks to has any idea why they stopped, but all are grateful for the respite.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

So how'd you like it? It's fighting mixed with plot mixed with hints of things yet to come mixed with a show of strength on the part of each of the Orders.

The dragons should fear the Orders individually… when they unite, the dragons should be terrified. That's what I was going for in this chapter - the Orders are powerful and the Elder Dragons will feel their sting forever! - so that's why the focus was so much on the fighting.

Dear me, I _knew_ I was gonna take a million chapters to get to the actual retaking of Claw Island. Maybe I should have named the _book_ something to do with Claw Island… but Claw Island was very, very much the thing/event responsible for the whole Pact campaign, so I think it is suitable.

How did you like my paragraphs containing each Order's perspective on the other Orders? I think it's quite clarifying, myself.


	10. Chapter 10: Undefined Troubles RESOLVED

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Tiffany and Fiona come home. After a brief moment of grieving, Forgal and Trahearne show up to discuss meeting the Pale Tree tomorrow. Afterwards, the earth family show up. Phillipe and Joslyn and Tangwen all realize the problems arising from the fact that they can't really be there for their daughters/friends. The next day, Tiffany and Fiona head to the Grove and meet up with Trahearne, and they all go to the Pale Tree. She brings them into the Dream, where Tiffany is awash with joy and peace. She realizes that the Dream is the Tyrian representation of God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit… and she is given a Wyld Hunt.

* * *

Chapter ten: Undefined Troubles… RESOLVED

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I made a Discord server that is all about this story! It'll contain progress updates and places to discuss certain aspects of the story, so if you want to join up, go ahead! I'll figure out how to put a link here…

discord. gg/ mcZyx7a

Take out the spaces and copy+paste into your browser (or just the string of letters and numbers after the slash into the Discord server search engine).

Oh I love this chapter SO MUCH! This was the funnest chapter since EVER to write. I've been looking forward to this since _Soldiers, Scholars and Spies_, even before I'd decided exactly how it was going to play out. Uh… major warnings (/cry you're missing _so_ much) for religious/Christian content.

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

Tiffany and Fiona had been sent home for the night by General Almorra. Other Vigil soldiers would hold the city until the next day, in case the Risen started coming again.

But that means that they don't have anything pressing to do except sleep… and then, all the things they hadn't been thinking about that day come to the surface.

There are a lot of things to think about, but the one that hits them in the face with painful realization is Deborah's death. Petra and Andrew are… grieving.

Tiffany stands in the doorway of the inn and realizes that they are grieving.

Tiffany feels a cold chill run down her spine at the word. She swallows thickly as she tries to imagine never seeing Deborah again, never joking or cursing each other, never fighting side-by-side in battle again… somehow, she manages to understand that she will never hear Deborah's delighted laugh, or her teasing tone.

Fiona notices her stricken face. "Tiffany, are you - ?"

Tiffany shakes her head. "No." Her voice sounds gruff. "I can't - I need to be - "

"Tiffany," Forgal calls from behind her.

He hadn't been with them - he'd been detained by General Almorra over something.

"Tiffany," Forgal continues, "Trahearne wanted to speak to you, but you were already gone."

Tiffany freezes for a split second, before stuffing everything about Deborah into a corner of her mind. She blanks her face and makes sure her voice carries no trace of the sudden realization of Deborah, and turns around.

Trahearne is standing by Forgal, who says, "Warmaster Tiffany, Trahearne here had a… concern. General Almorra redirected him to you… and told me to put you in charge of retaking Claw Island should I think it best."

Tiffany blinks, the mask of the absence of grief fading into truth as she busies her mind with the new information. "Uh… alright..." She glances inquisitively at Trahearne.

"First of all," the sylvari begins, "I would like to know your thoughts on the current state of Claw Island."

Tiffany frowns, trying to figure out how to phrase her reply. After a moment, she answers, "It had protected Lion's Arch for a long time, and has the potential to do so for longer if we retake it. It's occupation by Zhaitan at the moment is both dangerous… and a warning - Zhaitan is on the move. Of the two, I think the warning to be more significant - Claw Island can no longer withstand Zhaitan's army. After retaking Claw Island, Tyria has to take intiative if we want to avoid another such massacre."

"Not to mention we've kind of got to," Fiona inserts helpfully. "I mean, we can't just let Zhaitan get away with this, after all. Not retaliating would be almost criminal of us, and it would be a direct insult to Deborah's memory."

Trahearne nods. "I feel the same way. Tyria is in great danger, my friend. Zhaitan's corruption is spreading, and fast. I fear that many may die before we retake the island."

"And his army is growing," Forgal adds. "Even if you're winning, you're losing when fighting Risen. Their sheer numbers make for daunting odds."

"That is why we take out the problem at the head," Tiffany replies cheerfully. "Once we beat up the champions… uh, do these ones have names?" She addresses the question to Trahearne. She knows they do, but she hasn't the slightest clue what they are.

He answers promptly, "Ogravos the Moondeath, Fafnarin the Heartslayer, and Horrogos the Soulbreaker. But I doubt that we faced the whole of their army today." Trahearne frowns. "In fact, what Zhaitan's lieutenants did send is most likely spare troops, or just to frighten us before sending the real army in."

Tiffany pales. "All that… _spare?_ How - ? We're going to have the biggest trouble in the world retaking Claw Island. If that was a scare tactic… their real force has to be ten times that."

Trahearne grimaces in agreement. "They're likely ready for us, and I am… concerned. Zhaitan has never responded this way before, even to the death of a champion."

Tiffany frowns slightly, but Forgal is the one to respond. "We can't give up hope, Trahearne," the norn rumbles.

Tiffany nods. "If we don't get Claw Island the first time, we'll regroup and try again."

Fiona pipes up at Tiffany's side, reciting an old verse from their earth days. "If at first you don't suceed, try, try again!"

"I quite agree," Trahearne tells them. "I have not given up hope at all - in fact, I am counting on it to lead the way - but it would be preferable to not have to make a second attempt."

"Oh, certainly," Tiffany says sagely. "The last two times…" she trails off and swallows. "The last two times we've had to retreat we've lost somebody."

Trahearne nods somberly, and Tiffany feels like facepalming as she remembers Brun. Trahearne had lost somebody as well. "To that end," the sylvari continues, "I suggest that we visit the Pale Tree. Her wisdom can guide the way - and if anyone knows how to defeat Zhaitan, it is the Mother Tree."

Tiffany brightens. "That sounds…" she pauses, trying to find the right word.

"Fun!" Fiona smirks.

"Quite interesting," Tiffany finishes with a grin. "Plus I get to meet the Pale Tree, which I've never had a chance to do yet."

Trahearne nods, seeming slightly amused by their replies. He glances at the sunset on the horizon. "Meet me at the Grove tomorrow morning," he tells them.

"Of course I will," Tiffany tells him. Then, she frowns. "But the asura gates are down… how did you get here?"

"Same way you did," Forgal shrugs.

"Oh. Right," Tiffany says, feeling slightly stupid. The Durmand Priory had hacked the waypoint system to delete any long-range traveling from the system since the asura gates were down. But they'd only hacked certain waypoints - the ones right next the asura gate in each city. Both the starting and the ending waypoint had to be the closest one to the asura gate in whichever city, otherwise the travel is still logged in the Dynamics waypoint database. Normally there is no such thing as a 'starting waypoint,' but the cheat the Durmand Priory had installed only works if the person waypointing is within ten feet of the waypoint closest to the asura gate. "I suppose if they haven't fixed the gates by tomorrow I'll use that method as well."

"Where did your norn friends go?" Forgal asks. "I saw some impressive fighting from those three."

"I don't know," Tiffany frowns. "They wanted to stay around and help until Claw Island is free, so they probably didn't go back to Cragstead, but I also doubt that Braham wants to go back to Hoelbrak right now. They might be staying at Fort Marriner."

Forgal frowns. "Why wouldn't Braham want to go back to Hoelbrak?"

"Because of Eir. He doesn't like her much," Tiffany reminds him. Forgal gets the hint and nods. "Will you be coming with us to meet the Pale Tree?" she asks him.

Forgal shakes his head. "General Almorra needs as many warriors as she can get, and the two of us are some of the best Warmasters. I don't think depriving her of the both of us is a good idea."

Tiffany frowns. "You sure I won't be needed?"

"She gave special orders for you to help out Trahearne," Forgal reminds her. "She's planning based off of the assumption that you won't be there."

Tiffany nods. "Alright then. See you tomorrow, Trahearne!"

"I look forward to it," the sylvari replies, and he waypoints away.

Forgal glances at the two of them. "Tiffany, did you know this was going to happen?" he asks.

"The sound enchantment is in place," Fiona tells them.

"Which part?" Tiffany asks Forgal.

"This Pale Tree thing," he explains.

"Oh. Yes, I did," Tiffany nods. "It's rather important for many reasons - I think it showed Trahearne that he could be a leader. It also - I think - helped him finish his Wyld Hunt. It's also when the Pale Tree granted him Caladbolg."

Forgal nods. "I see. He'd likely kill you if you kept him from something pertaining to his Wyld Hunt."

Tiffany gives Forgal a mix of a grimace and a grin. "He's the most dedicated person I've ever met."

Forgal nods. "Well, I'll see you when you return. Good night, my friend."

* * *

Tiffany returns inside with Fiona as Forgal waypoints away, and the two head up to bed.

"Hey!" Fiona exclaims as they drift off to sleep. She sits up in bed.

"What?" Tiffany asks. "I'm sleepy. And trying to talk to Beorn." That last part isn't quite true. They'd been sharing feelings, but nothing like an attempt to communicate. Just basking in the companion bond.

"We never told Deborah our secret," Fiona whispers.

Tiffany blinks, a chill running down her spine. "She'll never know…"

Beorn pokes her with the feeling that means 'Zhaitan.'

"Aand it's better that way," Tiffany sighs. "Zhaitan knows what its minions know, and if Zhaitan hasn't Raisined Deborah I'll… I'll…."

"Eat Beorn?" Fiona asks. "And - "

"That's not funny." Tiffany says flatly. "But anyway, yeah. If Zhaitan knew we knew how to defeat it… it wouldn't spare any measures to get rid of us."

"Fiiine," Fiona groans. "But we _really_ should've told her."

"Maybe we can tell her when we die," Tiffany suggests. "It's not like - uh… maybe it is."

"Huh?"

"We don't know if God's spiritual justice system is in place here," Tiffany reminds her. "We might _not_ see her again." A pit of horror forms in Tiffany's stomach. 'Never' had not been a word in her vocabulary - not seriously, anyway. Even when somebody died, she knew she'd see them again someday. But now…

Fiona seems to have been having the same thoughts. "She's gone," the mesmer whimpers.

Tears spring to Tiffany's eyes as she - somehow - manages to grasp the entirety of Deborah's absence. "Never," she whispers, and for the first time in her life, she means it, and understands what it means.

"There you are!" shouts a voice, and Tiffany jumps, hands going to her axes as she leaps out of bed. They aren't there, of course - she'd put them away before bed - but she realizes they aren't needed as she sees Harrison's character standing on the table.

Tiffany sighs in relief as the quick adrenaline spike ebbs away, then is replaced by a stab of annoyance at her younger brother for interrupting her thoughts. "You've been looking for me?" she asks irritably.

"We haven't seen you in almost a week!" Harrison declares.

"One week…" Tiffany mutters in shock.

"MOM! DAD!" Harrisson shrieks. "I FOUND TIFFANY AND FIONA!"

"Wait, have we seen them since Beorn 'died?'" Fiona asks.*

Tiffany's eyes widen and she shakes her head. "That was before the whole Seraph thing - it's been a Season since we've seen them! More!"

"What does that mean?" Falcon, who'd just appeared in their room, asks in a bored tone. The one he uses when he knows he won't get an answer.

"Oh, uh…" Tiffany says, trying to remember the Earth equivalent, then translating to English. "About three months."

Falcon's eyes bug out. "_Three months_ for you guys? It's only been a week! Where've you been this whole time?"

"Well, for the last two months I've been waay up north doing Vigil stuff and beating up the Flame Legion, before that we were helping out the Seraph for a week following the Seraph Training Academy, which was when we saw you last," Tiffany explains. "This last week we've been doing the Claw Island story arc."

"And I was inside Sorrow's Embrace, you wouldn't have been able to find me since instances don't seem to work like that," Fiona inserts.

Before Falcon can reply, Tangwen appears. "There you are! I know it's only been about a week for us, but it must have been _ages_ for you!" she says in distress. "We couldn't find you anywhere! All the instances seemed to shut down and revert back to normal - even Petra and Andrew just had standard dialogue like 'normal' NPCs!"

Tiffany frowns. "That's weird. Are they still like that now?" She is speaking in English, she'd made sure of it. It's more natural to speak in English when talking about NPCs and such anyway.

The door swings open - nobody had touched the handle, even from the other side - and Joslyn runs in, zipping across the room in an instant.

Tiffany looks perturbed at Joslyn's unusual - read: never ever done - display of energy, but then Joslyn stops abruptly and she realizes it is just the way the characters move. The other times she'd seen them it had been a bit more realistic, but the door had just opened on its own like it did in the game when you hit F… maybe the game is taking over?

"We haven't seen you since Forgal attacked you, remember?" Joslyn exclaims.

"Oh right, you were there for that," Tiffany nods. "I forgot. In that case, it's only been about… uhh… two months for us. Two thirds of a Season or eight weeks."

"You don't count by months in Tyria?" Phillipe asks, with a frustrated frown.

Tiffany shakes her head, wondering how much of her previous sentence had been delivered in Tyrian. "Nope. They don't even have clocks that use numbers. We've got magical wristwatch-style sundials instead, but nobody calls the ticks hours. They're just ticks or notches, though there are still twenty-four of them in a day."

"It looks so _weird_ to see you moving so naturally inside a game," Falcon notes.

"Didn't we before?" Tiffany frowns.

"Not really…" Falcon frowns.

"Well, I've never seen you moving so much like player characters," Fiona points out. "When Joslyn ran in just now, it looked weird. Normally she'd just walk in, even with the whole game interference thing."

"It must be gamifying more," Joslyn frowns. "That's… worrying."

"Maybe it's in response to the changes we've been making to the storyline?" Tiffany suggests, thinking of Destiny's Edge being together already, Braham learning that Tiffany knows Eir, the whole Claw Island debacle… and Deborah's death. She glances at Fiona.

"What's wrong?" Joslyn asks upon seeing the looks on her gamified daughter's faces.

"Deborah is dead," Fiona tells them softly. "Did any of you ever get up to Claw Island in your storyline?"

Falcon, Harrison and Joslyn nod. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Joslyn exclaims, and she steps forward to encase one of them in hug, but she flies across the room in player running.

A frustrated sigh emanates from the character. Joslyn remains facing into the wall, although Tiffany knows she is actually watching the rest of them and not bothering to turn the character around. It's disconcerting.

"Hey look!" Falcon exclaims. "You can sit in the chairs!"

Tiffany watches in a mix of amusement and sadness as her family all sit woodenly in the chairs, exclamations of delight coming from the stiff figures at their newfound capability. She glances at Fiona, who shares her look of resignation at the 'gamification' that is slowly separating the family.

* * *

Phillipe glances at Joslyn. His daughters - _his daughters!_ \- enduring so much death and destruction. Their sister dying! He knows they have alternate memories of the world, and that they knew Deborah as much as one of their native siblings. This death would hurt them as much as Falcon or Harrison, Nate or Eden or Vinn or Laura dying would.

And he and Joslyn - the parents of the two! - can't help. They can stand and watch their daughters grieve, unable to do anything… or they can leave and not watch. They can decide to let the two young women - they aren't his children anymore - go their own way. They can separate the family, move on… but Phillipe can't do that. These are his two oldest children - even though they are twenty-four, they've always been _his children_ \- he can't just leave them here to deal with death and destruction and everything that is the basic nature of a fantasy world, however distinctively _not_ imaginary or fake it is.

He can't just leave his daughters like this… but he also can't help. Words alone will have to suffice, and their characters don't act naturally. Their mouths don't move when they speak and the idle animations are dreadfully short and obvious when put in a real life perspective.

It's killing him, not being able to help. Not being able to do anything beyond unnatural words coming from a stiff mannequin like a mechanical speaker… and the little things. Not counting months, and using different terms for the hours of the day. Things like that will always separate them.

Not to _mention_ the alternate language - that Tiffany and Fiona speak in as if it is native (which, come to think of it, they do have memories of speaking it since a young age) - which keeps getting in the way. And the time difference!

Phillipe and Joslyn look on as Falcon and Harrion engage the two otherworldly people in conversation, talk jumping from one thing to another and never staying anywhere very long.

Tangwen speaks to him - nobody else but he and Joslyn react to it, so she must be using the 'grown-up channel.' "It's heartbreaking, realizing they're on their own," she says sadly.

Phillipe agrees, and says so. "I just can't wrap my head around the fact that they're really gone… we just haven't realized it yet. What makes it worse is that we have to watch… but we can't just leave them."

Tangwen sighs. "I know what you mean. They're my friends - younger siblings to watch out for and take care of. I never expected them to have to deal with something that I didn't understand… and while I understand at an information level that this Deborah is as much their sister as your other children, I just can't process it properly that they feel so strongly."

"I imagine…" Joslyn says softly. She clears her throat and starts again. "Maybe - probably only in their subconscious, but still - Deborah replaced you. Older sibling by quite some years, yet more of a close friend than parent despite the age difference.

"Oh." After a pause of several seconds, she continues, her voice rather flat. "That explains it."

Oh, the limitations of voice chat. Body language is almost everything. Phillipe wishes he were in the same room as Tangwen, if just to get a better read on her emotions. There are many things she could be feeling, from feeling replaced by Deborah and perhaps a bit betrayed to feeling touched that her friends would mourn _her_ this way to surprise at how her friend's parents regard her to worry that Tiffany and Fiona now have _nobody_ to play the older-sister-friend role to a strange kinship with Deborah and sadness on her own part that the Seraph sister is dead to being unable herself to figure out which one she feels.

* * *

Tiffany and Fiona had talked with their family long into the night. Many lapses of language occurred, but many things were discussed - Deborah's death, though, was quite firmly avoided as too emotional a topic to carry on with people who showed no emotion whatsoever, no matter what they are actually feeling - everyone knows that even the /sad and /cry animations are totally fake.

Another difference to earth is discovered when Falcon asks why they're going to bed at three in the afternoon. Fiona had replied that they go to bed with the sun, and Harrison had bluntly said the the sun was still up, and Joslyn had inserted that even if the sun wasn't up, the sun goes down at much before bedtime.

Phillipe had reminded them then that two hours was a day for them, so they would be going to sleep again in two hours. This astounded Harrison, who sat down in a chair to contemplate going to bed every two hours. Tiffany found this slightly funny and quite in character for Harrison - who is only about seven and detests bedtime. She had told him that they are quite exhausted and ready to go to bed each and every time, as well, which confounded him even farther.

That is what had led to the end of the conversation; Phillipe had decided that Tiffany and Fiona needed their sleep, especially with the Claw Island arc going on, and he promised to catch up on storyline so he'd know what was going on next time he met up with them.

It makes no sense for him to not understnad what is going on and so divide the family even further, after all.

In any case, both Tiffany and Fiona fell asleep without much ado once the others left, being quite tired physically and (in Fiona's case) magically from the long day fighting, as well as mentally tired from explaining things to their family and trying not to think about things like Deborah's death.

And they don't get a chance to think through and sort out any of their thoughts and feelings regarding anything, since they fall asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows. Even Beorn conks out almost immediately, even in the middle of worrying about Tiffany and Fiona's inability to get a moment to rest mentally.

* * *

The next day, the asura gates are not up, so Tiffany and Fiona waypoint to the Grove.

The discussion that she and Fiona had been having before the players logged on the night before had come up in Tiffany's thoughts again that morning, and she mentions it to Fiona as they head toward the waypoint.

"I feel so… guilty," she admits, as a chill runs down her spine. "We just don't have enough time. I haven't been able to set aside a period of mourning for her - but I can't just be sad now and then. My mind doesn't work like that. It doesn't… honor her memory. She deserves a proper mental funeral from me, and I just can't give it. Things are too… hectic. And they will be from now until at _least_ Zhaitan is dead."

Fiona grimaces. "I know exactly what you mean. We've got to deal with Claw Island right now, then we'll have to form the Pact, then there'll be all the Pact's campaign to destroy Zhaitan… and it doesn't feel right. I can't give Deborah's memory the time it needs to rest. It's… disturbing."

Tiffany nods sympathetically. "Even the thought that Deborah would have wanted us to throw ourselves into this - reclaiming Claw Island, then pressing our advantage against Zhaitan? Even knowing she would have wanted that, it still… doesn't feel right."

"And we never told her," Fiona says sadly. "We never told her we knew the future. And it's our fault - we made changes, she died. She stayed safely at home in the game, was never killed. And even if she'd have preferred to go out in battle… none if it clicks. None of it relieves me of the guilt that it was both our fault _and_ that we can't mourn properly.

"I don't think it _will_ click until we have time to think about it," Tiffany sighs as they reach their destination and waypoint to the Grove.

* * *

"There you are," Trahearne greets them. "I believe you have been to the Omphalos Chamber before?"

"Yes," TIffany nods. "That was the time you showed us Ventari's Tablet."

The three make their way to the Omphalos Chamber. Nobody else is there, which is unusual - the Pale Tree must have wanted privacy for this discussion.

Trahearne approaches the Avatar of the Tree with Tiffany and Fiona trailing behind. "Hail, Mother," he greets her. "We come to seek your wisdom."

Fleetingly, Tiffany wonders why so much formality between a mother and her child - particularly one of the Firstborn - but then realizes that Trahearne greatly respects the Pale Tree, and would of course treat her accordingly.

"Bide a while, Trahearne, my son," the Pale Tree says. "And you as well, Tiffany, Fiona and Beorn Tassof. I have much to show you all."

'_Did she just give Beorn a last name?_' Tiffany wonders in amusement. Beorn returns affirmative feelings wrapped in amusement, some of it Tiffany's own. There is a touch of indignation as he mentally rolls his eyes. That is a '_yes,_' delivered as if it was the most natural thing in the world. '_Of course I am Beorn Tassof._'

"On what subject to do you seek my counsel?" the Pale Tree asks.

"Mother, I am sure by now you have heard of the destruction at Claw Island and Lion's Arch," Trahearne says - half a query, half a statement - gravely.

The Tree's Avatar nods sadly. "The soul of Tyria mourned at the beast's destruction. The Dream weeps for the corruption caused, and the numbers of dead are a source of grief throughout the land."

"My friends and I seek to right that wrong," Trahearne tells her firmly. "We wish to fight Zhaitan, and take back what was lost. We have come to ask your advice."

"The answer will determine Tyria's future, my child - and that is where it will be found. All of you must face the darkness and become guiding stars in the night. Zhaitan can be defeated - but only through great courage and sacrifice. Come. Enter the Dream with me, and see a vision of your future."

_**RELIGIOUS/CHRISTIAN CONTENT BEGINS HERE**_

Tiffany's vision blurs, colors mixing together, definitive lines fading, foggy mist clouding her vision. She feels weightless, suddenly, as if she had been pulled out of her body - as if she is seeing through her eyes from afar, in a distant, disconnected sort of way. She is covered in a blanket of warmth, as if the Dream is welcoming her. She feels a sensation of home and peace, as if the Dream is calling her home after a long time of being away.

Then, as if her soul closed its eyes to the monitor displaying her body's senses - as if she stopped paying attention - she sees nothing and feels nothing and hears nothing, at least not physically. But she finds she is not blind; she is not senseless. She doesn't feel afraid of the sudden lack of a body (or at least the feeling of it).

Her soul can 'see' and 'hear,' and although it is more of a mental sensation than anything else, she finds that she does not need anything more.

Tiffany can feel Beorn, still connected to her - but more of a bond than ever before exists. She can feel the imprint of his mind, his soul, his very being, near her. She can feel the same of Fiona and Trahearne - except they are more like _presences._ She can feel them near her, as if they are radiating something that identifies them. The Pale Tree is there as well, but she feels more like a connection back to… reality? No. 'Reality' is the wrong word, although it is the one she would have used without hesitation prior to entering the Dream. Back to _Tyria_. The Dream exists somewhere else - the Mists, maybe? A separate realm? Maybe it is a whole new world - as different to Tyria as earth is.

The feeling of the Dream - warm and welcoming - has not left. It is wrapped around her like a blanket. She feels like she knows the Dream, like she has felt this before, as if she should recognize it but she can't quite remember.

Beorn does not have the same recognition, only curiosity at why Tiffany feels that she should recognize the Dream.

Trahearne seems… he seems one with the Dream, rather than being surrounded with it as Tiffany, Fiona and Beorn are. Tiffany finds herself longing desperately for the same sort of… _oneness_ with the Dream. To be suffused through and through with the quiet joy pervading the Dream.

All this she realizes within a few seconds of entering the Dream, although it seems like an eternity. And she feels the Dream… touching her. As if the Dream, despite holding her in the warm embrace of home, is somehow… trying to get in. She opens herself - she is not quite sure how, only that she did it consciously - in a welcome invitation.

The Dream - the warm, welcoming embrace - flows through her, filling her mind with the same sensations she had been feeling - or knowing about - outside of her. She had thought she felt warm and accepted as she never had before, but now she realizes that had only been a pale imitation of the real thing.

And then, Tiffany recognizes it, realizes what she ought to have known beforehand, and pure joy floods through her whole being as she embraces the presence within her, welcomes it eagerly.

And Beorn does not recognize it, but he welcomes it as Tiffany had, with just as much joy. Tiffany can sense the Dream permeating Fiona, as well… but this is all registered subconsciously as Tiffany melds with the Dream.

The Dream speaks to her. _My faithful child. You never lost hope, even when all the evidence was against you._

And Tiffany knows - knows with a sense of assuredness, a firm belief that is unshakable - that the Dream is the answer to her oft-prayed question; the Dream is who she had before called Jesus, the Holy Trinity, and God the Father. And her heart swells with love fit to burst as she realizes that, despite her doubting and fears, He still loves her, does not care that she doubted so long as she never strayed, and found a way for them to be reunited at last. And she loves him on a deeper level, as well; as deep as it had ever been before she came to Tyria; but she had never been consciously in this much contact with Him, had never felt his presence as solidly as she feels him now.

All her questions, all her doubts, evaporate in a trice. She no longer fears that pursuing the Elder Dragons is the wrong way to go; had not the Dream bestowed numerous Wyld Hunts commanding sylvari to fight the corruption? She no longer fears that she is following the wrong path completely in trusting that her God would be there for her; is the Dream not entwined with her, through her being more thoroughly than ever before?

She receives assurance from the Dream that all her goals and hopes and dreams - how ironic is that - are not impossible, that she should continue striving for them…

The joy wraps her up and she can think of nothing else but how wonderful this is - her doubts relieved, her fears dispelled, and her God, her Savior, here to hold her in his arms. For such it is; within the Dream, it is her soul and mind that traverse the vast mindscape. Her soul, her innermost being, its senses not dampened any more by the feelings of the body or urges of time or concerns for the present… they are all trivial, taking place in an utterly different world to this.

Her soul, without bodily obstruction, is open to the pure sensation of the Dream within her, the Lord's spirit caressing her own, a part of it, mingled together.

All the abstract portions of spirituality that she had, perhaps, not quite understood before are suddenly made quite clear. '_My spirit and yours are one_.' She had never quite managed to grasp how that might be possible, but now - only now does she understand. Together they are mingled, together they are a single unit, a single soul… with Him seeded throughout her, how could she possibly not understand?

'_My Lord my God, my most awesome Savior,_' she thinks reverently._ 'My creator and caretaker, my parent and friend. I trusted you, and you took care of me; I doubted, yet you brought me home. Jesus Christ, my eternal light and salvation._' Tiffany notes, with a touch of humor, that she suddenly understands where the eloquence of the Psalms sprung from.

_And you shall not be alone such as this again,_ comes the reply. _I left you once, though I guided you as surely as if you had never your native land. I shall never leave you to such doubts and fears again. Though you may not feel me, I will never again give you cause to doubt my existence in a strange land._

Ephemeral light floods Tiffany as she revels in having an almost normal conversation - as normal as it could get in such circumstances - as if face to face with her Savior. And as she receives the meaning the Dream had given her, she understands with a touch of… finality that something about her has changed.

_A covenant, Tiffany_, the Dream tells her. _A seal on the unbreakable promise that you will never have cause to doubt Me again._

Tiffany feels her entire being - her soul, devoid of bodily restraints, _can_ feel the change so drastically - suffused in _purpose_. An intention, a goal, a far-off objective to strive for. She feels it in her spirit, mind and soul; and it is so like her and so aligned with her personality that she can only barely tell that it was bestowed on her by the Dream.

And she knows what it is, knows without having to be told even by the Dream…

She has a Wyld Hunt.

_**THE CHRISTIAN/RELIGIOUS STUFF ENDS HERE.**_

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Yes, I just had to end it there. It's a little short for a chapter… (really, really short if you didn't read the marked off sections, really sorry about that) but seriously, that's the best chapter ending in the world.

And yes, I have been thinking about this little piece of never-revealed information about the Dream for AGES. I got so excited while writing it that I couldn't stand to sit still writing any more. Can you imagine that? Me, unable to write, because I'm excited about my writing? ME?!

* I actually did have to go back and look up when was the last time they saw their earth family. That is just sad, in and of itself.

And also. I had the HARDEST time figuring out where to put the beginning of the warning tag.


	11. Chapter 11: The Dream

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Tiffany considers her Wyld Hunt - to protect people from the dragons by forming the Pact to kill them - before a vision of Orr develops around her. The Pale Tree and Trahearne notice something different about Tiffany and Fiona, and, after answering their queries, they travel through the vision toward Arah. Partway there, they come across a Pact camp with Trahearne addressing Pact soldiers. Real-Trahearne is, of course, quite confused. Then a group of six - including Tiffany, Fiona and Beorn themselves - approach and report to Trahearne. The Pact soldiers fight some Risen, and then the Pale Tree shows them a troubling vision of Destiny's Edge, wherein Caithe's refusal to share the secret of the sylvari with them results in her separating from the group.

* * *

Chapter eleven: The Dream

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

This chapter picks up right where the last one ends. There is one or two short paragraphs and one or two brief mentions of Christianity, but I am going to make the call that the heavy plot and significance of the surrounding material is more important. (And you _do_ want to know what Tiffany's Wyld Hunt is, right?)

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

If Fiona ever found out that Tiffany's first reaction to having a Wyld Hunt is _not_ 'I _am_ part sylvari!' she would faint. As it is, Tiffany's first realization is more of a profound understanding of a new responsibility set on her shoulders - a realization that, while she had been pursuing this course of action before, now she is firmly set on this path.

Her determination renewed, she knows that her goals are now concrete - there is no room for deviating. If anything, she is more motivated than ever to form the Pact and take it to victory against the Elder Dragons. Her desire to do this, previously just her mental goals, are now infused in her very soul. Her resolve hardens, and she promises the Dream at a soul-deep level that she will complete her task.

Her Wyld Hunt - now isn't _that_ the weirdest phrase ever - might be slightly vague to anyone else, but Tiffany knows what it is. It is layers, all interconnected. She is to protect the innocent, the civilians, from the Elder Dragons. At it's simplest, that is her task. But it also, somehow, there is more - it suggests, perhaps even pushes her towards, forming the Pact to the end of defeating the Elder Dragons.

Upon noticing this, Tiffany realizes that, without that nudge, her task is to protect people from the Elder Dragons - not to form the Pact or kill them, but to protect the innocents. She even wonders if that 'nudge' is really just her subconscious fusing her Wyld Hunt and her prior goals together… but she doesn't think so. Her Wyld Hunt is less of 'protect people' and more of 'form the Pact and kill the Elder Dragons _so that_ people will be protected.'

Tiffany is not to worry about defending people from threats not related to the Elder Dragons. She is to worry about the dragons' threat.

It goes against her nature to not worry about people - in _any_ sort of danger - and she knows she will have a hard time just letting it go. She is… it is her responsibility to care about and protect _everybody_, because she knows the future. But she does know that the Elder Dragons are the biggest threat; she had been preparing to take them down already. She might not be able to release her concern over the civilians quite yet… but she can deal with the dragons. She is - or will be - the Pact Commander, and she can deal with the dragons.

As she accepts the responsibility her Wyld Hunt has given her and the weight of its magnitude settles on her shoulders, the Dream withdraws into a corner of her mind - still there, still radiating joy and love, but not occupying her full attention, not being such a powerful presence that she can't help but respond to the pureness of it. Then, as if her soul had opened her eyes to a new world, in a new body (though she knows she is not back in Tyria; she can still feel the Dream all around her), vision returns. Blurry like before, but the lines quickly become defined, the colors become brighter and separated.

* * *

Tiffany is stunned.

The _deadness_ of this place. The lifelessness of Orr is glaring. She is gazing upon the land with her soul, and Orr does not just look dead and withered, it _is_ dead. She can feel an oppressive weight surrounding her on all sides, can feel the despair and wiltiness of the place, the destruction that took place here and the aggression of its new nature and inhabitants. It feels pale, as if it is fading from the land of the living, or, worse, becoming a darker, twisted version of itself, a land of destruction and emptiness rather than life and hope. Tiffany's breath catches in her throat. Orr is dead. Like a part of Tyria has been torn out - a hole in her being, a wound that will cripple her, that may never be healed. The Dream itself seems to grieve for the land.

And yet, under it all, a tiny, faint glimmer of something - a thread of life, of _hope_.

And suddenly, Tiffany understands Trahearne's Wyld Hunt much better now. Trahearne does want Orr to remain in this desolate state. Trahearne feels that tiny pulse of life in Orr, and hopes he can fan the heartbeat of life back into the dead land - revive it to its former beauty. Orr in its present state fills him with despair and sadness - a continent of such promise and potential, reduced to dust and corruption and claimed by an Elder Dragon. He is, quite possibly, even angry at Orr's predicament, and Tiffany shudders at what might happen if Trahearne ever finds the person responsible for it, or if anyone tries to step in his way of healing it.

Fiona gasps. "What just - we're in Orr, aren't we?"

Tiffany just nods mutely, still in awe at what had just happened to her.

"Yes," Trahearne comfirms, his voice sad. Tiffany realizes that this feeling of deadness does not exist in Tyria; Orr just looks dead, there. But Trahearne saw _this_ in his Dream… and every time he sees Orr itself he remembers the deadness pervading the land. Feeling the deadness again… Tiffany can only imagine his desire to heal it.

"It's so… dead," Tiffany says softly, marveling at the Dream's ability to convey in an emotional way the corruption defacing Orr. She can hardly comprehend the Dream… and she reminds herself that, as the representation of God - no, _as_ God himself - she never will be able to. Once she realizes that, everything clicks into place. She'd never been able to work logic into the way that God exists - it is all too complicated for her - and so she had just trusted (like with such things that God has always existed since before time existed, only that makes no sense) that, even if she can't understand it, it does make sense on some level. The Dream now fits like a puzzle piece into the same spot that the Holy Trinity had once occupied.

It spins her worldview around around and puts a different perspective on life, but it is the same God-hole and the same piece within the hole, and once Tiffany accepts that, everything is not so different after all.

Trahearne nods, and turns to look at her, his expression wondering. "I can… you are full of the Dream. How…?"

Tiffany realizes that she can feel those around her much more fully than she could before; an echo through the Dream of their current state of being. Fiona has received the Dream as fully as she has, and Beorn as well. Her bond with Beorn has not changed, and Tiffany feels slightly smug that her connection with Beorn trumps the sylvari connection through the Dream… although if all sylvari felt each other's emotions all the time, the whole race would be a tangle of messed up emotions. Two people sharing emotions is quite enough.

Quite interestingly, though, Tiffany can only feel very faint echoes of Trahearne. She can tell he is around, that he is near and where exactly he is, but not much else. On the other hand, she can sense Fiona's mood. Tiffany can't tell her sister's exact emotions - this isn't anything like the companion bond - but she knows that Fiona is full of joy and happiness, the same as Tiffany herself.

The Pale Tree's Avatar appears near them. "They have been melded with the Dream, Trahearne," she says. "They have joined it as fully as any sylvari."

_Now_ the thought occurs to Tiffany that she is part sylvari now. She resists smirking at Fiona.

"The question," the Avatar continues, "is how. The Dream recognized them, welcomed them… and they recognized and welcomed it back."

Tiffany does not feel like holding this secret from them. It could be that their mutual connection to the Dream lends itself to trust; it could be subconscious trust that the Dream is letting this happen (they are directly within it, after all) or the Dream _telling_ her something subconsciously, it could be that she just feels full of trust and joy at the moment and is being rather reckless. Tiffany doesn't really think about any of this - like when she feels sleepy and tired and yielding.

"We're… me and Fiona are from another world," she explains. "The Dream exists differently there, and we communicated differently there. When we came to this world, we couldn't feel… it… anymore, and were quite worried and concerned and doubtful. We didn't have a clue that it existed in Tyria as the Dream. But when we felt it, we knew it. The Bible says that 'my sheep know my voice,' and I suppose that's what happened here."

"We've never… we never had this deep a level of connection back on earth," Fiona marvels. "This is… the most wonderful thing in the world."

Trahearne and the Pale Tree's Avatar nod in agreement.

Tiffany glances at Fiona, her eyes filled with joy.

After a moment of silence, contemplating the peace surrounding them like a blanket - and the responsibilities her Wyld Hunt has given her - Tiffany speaks curiously. "Where are we, exactly?" she asks, addressing Trahearne.

Trahearne, however, looks instead to the Pale Tree. Tiffany wonders for a moment why; he has been studying Orr all his life, shouldn't he know? But then the Pale Tree speaks.

"A place you have long avoided, my son," she tells him. "The road to Arah."

'_Oh. He avoided Arah?_' Tiffany wonders. She wonders how close the Artesian Waters are to Arah; maybe this avoidance is the cause of never having completed his Wyld Hunt until the Pact took him there. But she cannot remember.

"That is your goal," the Pale Tree continues. "The dragon's base and location. You may see visions along your way; things that may come to pass."

Tiffany wonders how different from the in-game quest this vision will be, but realizes that it does not matter. Despite living here and nearly dying many times, she had never _quite_ fully grasped that they are no longer within the game, that this is truly real. Everything clicks suddenly, much better than it had before; no, _she_ clicks into _Tyria_ in a way she hadn't until now. She has a reason for existence, a reason for being in this world over earth. She still feels separate from the people around her - knowledge of the future is a heavy burden - but she fits into the _world_ \- the universe, the bigger picture of history and future and existence - as she hadn't before.

The differences between Tyria and the game make no difference, now; they are separate things… and Tiffany will keep it that way. She will make sure that the Elder Dragons die - she knows they can be defeated, she knows _how_ \- and she will save as many lives as possible in the process.

"Where did she go?" Fiona asks, startled. Tiffany glances at her, then realizes that the Pale Tree's Avatar is gone.

"It is difficult for her to maintain this vision," Trahearne explains. "And even moreso to maintain representation of herself. We must press on."

"So the Pale Tree is controlling the vision, not the Dream itself?" Tiffany asks as they follow the sylvari down the road.

"Yes. The vision is generated from the Dream, and with the Dream's memories and knowledge, but the Pale Tree maintains it."

"That makes sense," Fiona comments.

As they continue on, Tiffany notes with a touch of amusement that Trahearne is rather unable to hide his interest in the land.

"Orr was once beautiful," Trahearne notes, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"It's hard to imagine, seeing it like this," Tiffany comments. After a moment, she adds, "Your Wyld Hunt is to restore it, right?"

"Yes," Trahearne agrees. "I don't think it is just Zhaitan that despoiled it, however. The Cataclysm likely played a large role, as did the Guild Wars that took place not long prior to the charr invasion."

"Over a hundred years underwater probably had some effect, as well," Fiona suggests.

"Possibly, although I doubt that did more than destroy the temples and other buildings," Trahearne notes. "I am rather surprised myself that any are left standing after so long. The only possibility I can think of has to do with Orr's magical potency."

"What do you mean?" Fiona asks. Tiffany glances at her in slight surprise; they and the others had been discussing this just before Blightghast arrived on Claw Island.

"Before Orr sank, magic was quite abundant," Trahearne explains. "It was used every day for what you and I would consider trivial things, and nobody thought twice about it. I imagine that just the amount of magic being used would rub off on the surrounding area, and the side effects could have been anything."

Tiffany sees a ghostly-seeming Risen approaching them.

Fiona seems to notice them, as well. "Is that something to worry about?" she asks. "I mean, is it… real?"

"Oh yes," Trahearne nods, drawing his weapons. "It is as real as back in Tyria here. You can die if you aren't careful."

"I see," Fiona nods, bringing her staff around into her hands. Tiffany nocks an arrow while Beorn lumbers forward.

The arrow flies while the Risen is still some distance off, but Tiffany's jaw drops as the Risen _dodges_ the arrow, slips past Beorn, and continues on.

Fiona tosses an orb of magic at the Risen, but the magic just… slides off of it. Beorn manages to slash his claws at the back of the undead corpse, distracting the Risen momentarily, while Trahearne reaches out with the sickly green color of Renewal to touch the Risen.

It stumbles, but continues on toward them, and Trahearne takes a step back in surprise and fear, Renewal gathering at his fingertips again.

Tiffany sends more arrows, but the Risen somehow manages to dodge them, as well as Beorn's claw attacks.

Renewal reaches out again, this time flowing around the undead monster coming for them. It halts in its tracks, and Tiffany's arrows finally find their mark and Beorn crushes its head.

"What… I've never seen a Risen dodge like that before," Tiffany says shakily, her own adrenaline rush fading.

"Zhaitan's corruption is stronger this close to Arah," Trahearne answers after a moment. He opens his mouth to continue, but Fiona interrupts him.

"More incoming!" she shouts, pointing down the road.

"Oh dear," Tiffany sighs, seeing a horde of Risen coming at them. She puts her bow away, pulls out her axes, and steps forward with Beorn.

She rotates her axes in her hands, severing limbs and cutting spines, but the Risen keep moving, disregarding the missing limbs. Even chopped all to pieces, they keep twitching and jerking, flailing in a way that could be dangerous.

It takes several minutes, but finally the last ones are rendered useless - dead is a relative term, both in Orr and as representations within the Dream.

Fiona, whose face is pale - she had been quite unable to help in the fight, aside from applying boons to Tiffany and Beorn - asks shakily, "how do they _do_ that?"

"Zhaitan's magic is much more effective this close to Arah," Trahearne reminds them. "Other magic would just wash off, and the Risen are much more driven and single-minded - they disregard pain and injury to serve their master, but are also smarter about it. Further away from Orr, they must be more cautious, because the dragon's corruption does not reach that far and cannot resurrect them without special means. This is balanced by how much control Zhaitan has - the Risen further away are much more sloppy, whereas these are nimble and agile."

Tiffany frowns, glancing back at the still-twitching corpses. "So the only way to get rid of them permanently is to burn them?"

Trahearne nods. "Yes, that works. Another method is the Aspect of Renewal… or at least, that is a method that would work on most Risen. I can overpower them with Renewal, wiping out Zhaitan's control and preventing that body from rising again, but the Risen here are so steeped in Zhaitan's magic that the amount of Renewal required is impossible."

"Is that what you were doing on Claw Island?" Fiona asks.

"Yes," Trahearne confirms. "They must have been far enough away from Zhaitan - if they were ever as close as this - that it wore off."

"Would it work on the champions?" Tiffany wonders.

"Sadly, no," he replies. "They radiate Zhaitan's magic themselves - though on a lesser scale - and possess Zhaitan's ability to raise the dead."

"So they're portable mini-Zhaitans," Fiona suggests. "They can do all the things Zhaitan can do, but not as much and they don't have as much range?"

"Yes," Trahearne agrees. "Zhaitan hides behind its armies of undead, and Blightghast and the others are its hands, reaching out across the world to carry out its will."

There is silence for a minute as they continue along the road to Arah.

"The question, of course," Trahearne says after a moment, "is not how to dispose of the bodies once they are dead, but rather - "

Tiffany glances at him questioningly, wondering why he'd stopped speaking, then notices the Pale Tree's Avatar before them once again.

"Continue, Trahearne," she tells him. "What is it you wish to know?"

"How will we defeat these undead?" he asks directly. "They are much more formidable than the ones at Claw Island, and it takes more to defeat them, even when they are alone. Is attacking Zhaitan even plausible?"

"Not alone," the Avatar says, shaking her head. "Alone, Zhaitan's domain is impenetrable, its forces fierce. But with unity, you will find that many impossible things can be achieved."

Tiffany's face lights up; she now has two reasons (besides knowing the future) to form the Pact; her Wyld Hunt _and_ the Pale Tree's own words.

"Unity," Fiona repeats.

"Yes, the Orders of Tyria represent a unity of the races that is lacking elsewhere," Trahearne agrees. "They are some of the only forces that stand a chance against Zhaitan."

"Keep an open mind and a ready spirit, my children," the Avatar advises. "Much of what I have to show you may be confusing until the time comes."

The Avatar fades away, and Tiffany glances at Fiona. '_Til the time comes, yes… and for me, it has come and gone and undone itself in what is pretty much time-traveling._' Tiffany also realizes how… _cryptic_ the Pale Tree can be. She hadn't noticed it until she knew exactly what the Pale Tree was talking about, but still…

"Come; from her words, there is more, it seems," Trahearne notes, and the three make their way down the road again.

Quite soon, Tiffany sees a wall with a blue rim - magic conduits at the top, she supposes - and knows what is coming. That is the look of a Pact outpost; no other fortresses use the blue defense, and Tiffany finds herself wondering what it does. Is it guardian magic to ward away Risen? Is it some other invention of the unity of the Orders that keeps the Risen at bay? She'd never thought to wonder about it before, but Tiffany dismisses the question until later as she smiles at the sign of the Pact's influence in the area.

Trahearne and Fiona seem quite puzzled by what it could be, and as the three follow the road to the entrance of the outpost, the Pale Tree's Avatar is there, waiting for them.

Trahearne opens his mouth to ask a question, but his own voice interrupts him.

Tiffany glances past the Avatar to see the fort filled with visions of soldiers - Pact soldiers, from all the Orders - and Trahearne himself, addressing them.

"Defenders of Tyria!" vision-Trahearne says, and real-Trahearne looks quite confused. Vision-Trahearne continues, "when Zhaitan rose from slumber, it found a long-dead land and calimed it. It expected the rest of Tyria to be as easily conquered. But we live, and we breathe, and we fight! All races, all paths of life, we stand against Zhaitan! The dragon is a terrible foe, and it wants us to be afraid, it wants us to be paralyzed in doubt - because fear will destroy us! But I tell you this - we are not afraid! Though death claims us, we will never kneel!"

As vision-Trahearne proclaims his defiance of Zhaitan, the ground shudders and rocks in what seems to be an earthquake.

"Do you feel that?" Vision-Trahearne asks, almost demands, of his audience. "The dragon hears us! It is Zhaitan that is afraid! To Arah, and victory!"

As the Pact soldiers cheer, real-Trahearne turns to the Avatar, confusion written on his features. "This - this is a vision of the future?" he asks. "Mother, I do not understand… I'm no general."

"Yes you are," Tiffany replies promptly. "Can't you picture yourself doing that?" she gestures at the crowd.

The sylvari looks confused and uncertain, and the Avatar steps in. "Trahearne, my son. You must be what Tyria needs you to be. You have more courage than you realize."

'_Oh, yes,_' Tiffany realizes sagely. '_More courage than anybody I know - to stand up and give speeches like that. I could never do it. And Trahearne is - he's - he's __shy__. He's introverted. I never thought about that before.* Yes indeed, more courage than he realizes, that and self-confidence._'

Trahearne looks lost and unsure, and Fiona pipes up, "hey, at least you have a warning! Imagine if you didn't?"

The sylvari looks even more perturbed than before, but the Avatar holds up a hand for silence and points down the road in the direction they'd been heading before they encountered the Pact.

Six figures are coming toward them, and Tiffany easily recognizes herself and Beorn among them, as well as Fiona, Forgal, Lightbringer Vriré, and Sieran.

"Trahearne!" vision-Sieran calls, and vision-Trahearne turns to see them while real-Trahearne sighs in resignation.

"There are Risen not too far down the road," vision-Vriré tells him.

"There are several giants and abominations with them," vision-Fiona reports.

"They're the tough kind, too," vision-Forgal adds.

Vision-Trahearne nods in acknowledgement and turns to the Pact soldiers. "Today we show Zhaitan that it cannot dominate any land where we still breathe! It cannot frighten us into submission, and we will stand against it until it falls! We shall destroy the best it can send at us, and more, until we stand at the gates of Arah! To victory!"

The Pact soldiers cheer, and vision-Trahearne leads them and the scouting group down the road.

Real-Tiffany, Fiona and Trahearne follow the visions to where a fight between Pact soldiers and Risen is taking place. Trahearne blinks as they take down the Risen quickly and efficiently, with a practiced hand and coordinated eye.

"Come on, let's get the big one," Fiona suggests cheerfully.

"Wait, Fiona," Tiffany says. "Remember, mesmer magic doesn't work on them!"

Fiona shrugs. "I can…" she pauses. "I can help in other ways," she says quietly.

Tiffany blinks; Fiona had always rushed in, magic working to take down her enemies. She hadn't been big on a support role before. But as she watches Fiona head toward the fight, channeling magic toward the Pact fighters rather than the Risen, Tiffany realizes that the Dream must have changed her or told her something.

Tiffany decides to speak with Fiona later about the experience, and nocks an arrow. That Risen giant is big and it has its back to her, so she is fairly certain she can hit it, despite Zhaitan's magic making it a more formidable foe in combat.

As she lets loose her arrows, she sees the group that her own double is part of - plus Trahearne - take down the Risen giant in the same amount of time it takes the rest of the Pact soldiers (with real-Tiffany and real-Fiona's help) to get rid of the other one.

She knows that this scouting group certainly was never part of the game; for one thing, Forgal and Sieran would never be in the same mission together, and there would never be two PCs - Tiffany and Fiona - and Vriré had never made an appearance in any missions that Tiffany knows of.

So it is somehow relevant to the changes she has made, something new, and real-Tiffany wonders about it as the Pact soldiers regroup.

Tiffany sidles closer to vision-Tiffany, wondering about her.

Vision-Tiffany smirks at her vision-friends. "We'll take Arah yet," she says, her voice full of supreme confidence - the same confidence real-Tiffany feels.

"Don't be so sure," vision-Vriré warns. "One battle does not decide the war."

Vision-Forgal nods in agreement. "I've seen battles that were about to be won, but then the tide turned in the blink of an eye and we lost."

'_I wonder what battle that was?_' real-Tiffany wonders. Nobody had ever spoken to her about such a battle. '_But I know why vision-Tiffany is so confident. She is me, she has the memories and knowledge of the future._'

"Look, the Pale Tree has manifested herself over there," real-Trahearne points out, glancing at his own double with something like a thoughtful frown.

Real-Fiona, who had been staring into space thoughtfully (but also perhaps weaving a sound enchantment over to where vision-Fiona, vision-Sieran, and vision-Trahearne are talking), comes back to herself and nods. "Let's go to her, then," Fiona suggests.

The Avatar of the Tree greets them, then gestures to where a ghsotly Destiny's Edge are standing in a group, talking cheerfully amongst each other.

"The ghosts of the past have been washed away, but the memory of the injury remains. Destiny's Edge stand upon the brink of one of the worst calamities…" the Pale Tree looks directly at Tiffany and Fiona. "…and only you have the power and knowledge to stop it."

Tiffany and Fiona glance at each other nervously, both absolutely sure of what the Pale Tree is referring to - future knowledge. But they'd brought Destiny's Edge together, and even here they are friends.

The Avatar of the Tree gestures them onwards. As the twins walk toward Destiny's Edge, Tiffany hears Trahearne address a question to the Pale Tree - he is obviously taking advantage of time separate to ask about the whole Pact-vision-thing.

Vision-Logan is grinning a joke vision-Rytlock had just told, and vision-Zojja is in the middle of explaining her latest idea for an invention - it's capabilities and requirements - to vision-Eir.

"It's just an idea at the moment - I'll have to do some extensive research before I can be sure it is even possible - but I'd like to find a way to recreate that shield Fiona and Logan used," vision-Zojja explains. "It's a mix of Protection and Deception - a very odd mix - and I'm not sure I can incorporate both of those into a device. But it would be quite useful in a fight against anybody wielding enough Deception to shadowstep like Scarlet Briar."

"Speaking of Scarlet," vision-Rytlock notes, turning to vision-Caithe. "What was that secret she mentioned?"

Vision-Caithe shakes her head. "I can't tell you. I am sorry, but I just can't. If you knew you'd understand, but…"

Tiffany glances at Fiona, who quickly fills her in on the 'secret of the sylvari' that Scarlet had mentioned in Sorrow's Embrace.

"Yeah," Tiffany nods. "Probably Mordremoth. My question is how Caithe knows."

Fiona frowns.

"But nothing, Caithe," vision-Rytlock interrupts. "This is obviously important."

"It actually distresses you, and we all know nothing can do that - not since Faolain died," vision-Zojja adds.

"We care about you, Caithe," vision-Eir puts in kindly. "If something is bothering you, you know you can tell us."

Caithe just shakes her head again. "Not this. It's too - you'd never…"

"Why don't you just tell them?" Tiffany wonders, but the ghostly visions of her friends don't respond.

"We can always ask Fiona, you know," vision-Zojja offers. "She seemed to have some idea of what was going on."

"She didn't," vision-Caithe says firmly. "Nobody knows. The only other person who does - " the sylvari cuts off abruptly and says no more.

"Do you think we should tell them?" Fiona asks anxiously. "That we know the future, I mean."

"I… maybe," Tiffany admits. "It just doesn't fit. I might have to tell Eir, though - Braham found out that we know each other. Eir is smart, maybe she can give us some advice. And she seems to have Caithe's best interests at heart."

"We need to be able to trust each other if we are going to succeed," vision-Eir insists. "Keeping secrets is not the way to go about this."

"We've lost because we thought we could trust and turned out to be wrong - at least temporarily," vision-Rytlock huffs. "If Logan had told us about Queen Jennah - however unrelated it might have been - we would have been more prepared. Caithe, you might think this is in no way connected with us… but we should still know."

It obviously pains vision-Caithe, but she closes her eyes and, after a long, painful moment, shakes her head. "I can't," she whispers.

Vision-Eir seems perturbed by vision-Caithe's stubborn refusal, but remains silent.

"She's always been secretive," vision-Logan reprimands the others. "And we all have our secrets. It's probably blackmail Scarlet has on her; I, for one, would like not to pry."

"Just tell us, Caithe - is it important?" vision-Eir asks at last. "Does it have to do with the Elder Dragons?"

Vision-Caithe doesn't answer, just looks between her friends with a haunted, pleading look in her eyes - a look Tiffany decides is most supremely out of character for the sylvari.

"That's all we're asking, Caithe - we just need to know if it affects us," vision-Logan says gently.

Again, vision-Caithe doesn't answer. "I just… just stop," she says, her voice breaking. "I can't. Just… just leave me alone."

"No, Caithe," vision-Zojja says firmly. "Secrets and distrust will tear us apart."

"I'm afraid I agree with Zojja," vision-Rytlock sighs, snapping his claws in and out in agitation. "I'd rather not make you tell, but she's right."

One by one, the other members agree, and vision-Caithe's pleading expression turns downcast and full of grief. A single tear escapes one eye as she shakes her head for a final time.

"Do you not trust us?" vision-Logan asks sadly.

Vision-Caithe doesn't reply, but the answer is evident.

"So be it," vision-Eir sighs. "Keep your secret." The finality in her voice is firm, despite the reluctance with which the words are said.

As vision-Caithe turns away, vision-Zojja gives a sad sigh. "She was the reason we came together," the asura says softly. "I can't believe she…"

Vision-Eir nods. "I just hope… I just hope she returns. And that her secret won't doom us all."

Tiffany's breathing is shallow - she pants quick breaths and her eyes are wide. "I - I - but they - but - what? If it _is_ Mordremoth, why wouldn't she tell them? What other secret could there be, one that identifies with all sylvari like you said?" She'd brought them together just for them to separate? Again? Now, with the Pact about to form and move on Zhaitan?

"One that she would keep even from Faolain - one that was the reason she decided not to love Faolain anymore," Fiona adds.

Tiffany nods mutely. "I brought them together for this? For Scarlet to wreck everything, pull them apart…"

"This hasn't happened yet," Fiona reminds her. She continues with an edge to her voice. "But it is very likely to happen. They've been messing everything up recently."

Vision-Caithe is the only one left; the other visions had all disappeared. As the two watch her, they get an impression of time passing, and vision-Caithe speaks briefly to other visions of people - sometimes Destiny's Edge, sometimes not - getting more quiet each time, with longer spaces between each one, before she, too, vanishes like the other visions.

"I don't know how to stop this," Tiffany realizes. "I know it's the Mordremoth thing, but… there's no way we'll find a way to fix it without revealing our future knowledge. She isn't going to tell us, not when she doesn't tell her closest friends."

"Maybe we say the Pale Tree told us? She as much as admitted to knowing that we know the future before she sent us over here."

"Maybe," Tiffany says slowly. "I'm not sure what to do anymore."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I decided to end it here, both because this chapter was really hard to write and I thought you should get the next chapter already, and because the chapter was getting long and this was a good place to end it before the next section.

So anyway! I learned a _lot_ about doing characterization and character arcs, so there's a new, interesting level of depth to Tiffany and Fiona now! See if you can spot characteristics of either of them that you never noticed before!


	12. Chapter 12: Problems, Confusion, and Sur

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Fiona considers her Wyld Hunt, how her past - both of them - tie into her Wyld Hunt, and how that ties into some other issues of Fiona's. Trahearne ponders the future revelations of the Dream. He is at first quite confused, but a brief talk with the Pale Tree clears it up. After he speaks to the ghost of King Reza, Mother _has_ to go and shock him to his core by presenting him with Caladbolg. Really, Mother, your talent for the mysterious should give you a _bit_ of gentleness when introducing surprising things!

* * *

Chapter twelve: Problems, Confusion and Surprises by Mother

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Yes, the chapter name is weird to begin with. Yes, FFN does not like the length of it, and so it is cut short. I don't care, I think it's awesome!

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

Fiona knows she should be happy - and, in fact, she does feel rather euphoric. She can't help but be happy with the Dream all around her, proving that she isn't alone and that God is on her side.

But - and this is a rather big 'but' - today (and, actually, last night, too) had been bad news after bad news of the sort that is lifechanging.

Deborah is dead. Yeah. That's bad. But her parents - Joslyn and Phillipe - and (to a lesser extent) Tangwen and Tiffany had always been there when she needed comforting or something. When she had problems she could talk to one of them. Now, three of those supports are pretty much gone (no way is she talking about the death of her sister with her parents - that are also not Deborah's parents - that show absolutely no emotion and act like recordings played from statues) and Tiffany is going through the same exact troubles. Well, mostly.

It's more than just Deborah - although if the phrase 'just Deborah' is uttered by anybody she'll likely Deceive them into next week - but she is a major part of it.

When she was little - in both worlds - she'd liked playfighting. Rough. Rougher than anybody ever who wasn't aiming to actually hurt.

People said she just didn't know her own strength; but she did. Oh, yes, she did.

And she couldn't ever _use_ it. A fraction of it would make Tiffany yelp in pain and tell her to stop. Her earth family had loved to playfight, but she was left out of it more and more as she got older and stronger. Even free-for-alls turned into 'everybody vs Fiona' because she was just so _good at it_ \- and even then, they still avoided it. Even Harrison - the hitting machine, the 'ignore the pain!' guy, the one who would've been an awesome candidate for a warrior if he'd come to Tyria - was afraid of her.

She moderated, but it irked. It was always annoying. She wanted to use her full strength, to… to just _do stuff_ with it. She doesn't know why, it just… felt so good to find something that tested her strength. She'd pretended - thrown herself at her siblings with all her might but aimed to the side so they wouldn't be hurt. They dodged right into her path sometimes.

When she got older, she learned how to repress it. Fiona isn't actually sure how she managed to go without hurting somebody or driving her friends and family away until the age of twenty-four. Then she came to into Tyria, and her memories of that world.

In Tyria, she'd had Deception to help her. Her awesome physical strength on earth transferred into awesome Deceptive power and ability in Tyria, and using Deception gave her that same sense of satisfaction as finding something that could test her strength.

She actually _likes_ getting mentally tired from using Deception. DeGlasse had been harsh - oh, _so_ harsh - with her, pushed her to her limits, tried to break her… but she'd loved every minute. The exhaustion at the end of the day was a reminder of what she was doing, that she could be who she wanted to be.

The equivalent of rushing in and punching people in the face? Watching their astonished looks as they see _ten_ of her, as they realize what they'd seen and automatically believed was absolutely false, watching the surprise morph into terror and fear as they wonder what else is fake…

Oh yeah. Epically awesome.

Tiffany doesn't know the extent of it - she just knows Fiona likes playing rough, and that that translated into Deception in Tyria - but she understands enough.

Fiona had seen that troubled look on Tiffany's face when she said she'd help the vision-Pact soldiers.

Doing boons had never given her the satisfaction she was looking for. It enhanced her allies, and despite her love of combat transferring into Deception, her favorite part is letting the enemies know about it. Or at least influencing _them_ in some way - conditions do it. Boons don't.

Now… now she can't. She has to play support.

It's her Wyld Hunt. She doesn't blame the Dream/God or the Pale Tree or anything like that. She doesn't _blame_ anybody, or resent them, or anything… she just… she doesn't know how she feels.

Denied the joy and satisfaction she'd had for the last six months, for all her years in Tyria. Stripped of it, given a duty that required, as a _side effect_, that she limit herself, once again.

And the duty itself is noble and good and Fiona would - has been - doing it anyway.

But for it to be her _purpose in life_…

Fiona feels empty. Cheated.

Her Wyld Hunt is to protect Tiffany. No, not that - not quite. To support Tiffany. There is a difference. She is to support Tiffany, physically - protecting, yes, but also helping in a fight - and emotionally. Tiffany needs an understanding sister, someone to discuss her troubles with, somebody who will be there for her emotionally and mentally. Sure, Beorn does that… to an extent. Tiffany can't have a heart-to-heart with Beorn. The two companions may be able to communicate in a very intimate way, but it is slow and hard to understand, even for them. And Beorn hasn't always been there.

Fiona has been with Tiffany in _both_ worlds; since eighteen minutes after birth in Tyria, to eighteen months after birth on earth. Negligible difference. Fiona and Tiffany have _always_ been together. They understand each other _really_ well.

Fiona is the only person who can be Fiona to Tiffany, since their relationship transcends universes - well, it's safe to say that Tiffany doesn't know a Deborah on earth, or a Tangwen in Tyria. Tiffany doesn't even know a Beorn on earth.

Beorn understands Tiffany on an emotional level, sure, which Fiona might not quite as well as him - but Fiona considers it cheap. Beorn cheated by seeing into Tiffany's mind. What Fiona knows of Tiffany came through years - twenty four in each world - of living with, knowing and helping her sister.

Fiona doesn't _despise_ Beorn or anything, she just considers her bond with Tiffany stronger.

So, supporting Tiffany should come naturally - and it does. Fiona would give her life to protect Tiffany. And all this is reinforced by Deborah's death. Fiona has lost one of her sisters… she hasn't even worked through how she feels about Deborah. She's barely had time to realize Deborah's death, much less think about it and realize what exactly Deborah dying _means_. But she knows that when she does, it's gonna hurt. Bad. And losing Tiffany… that would be so much worse.

But when her _reason for existence_ is to support Tiffany… it just…

Fiona doesn't know what to think about this. Is it an insult, that her reason for existence is purely to protect her sister? No, not at all. Does it make her less than Tiffany? Well… it certainly feels like it. She knows it doesn't - God (err, the Dream) doesn't operate that way. Everybody is important.

And she knows that, realistically, her Wyld Hunt does not mean that her reason for existence is to support Tiffany. But it is where her main - worth, maybe? - comes from.

And support has never been her role, either.

Supports are never noticed. Nobody recognizes supports for what they are; vital to success, the reason for half the team's victories, prominent in manipulating and setting up individual conflicts or the battlefield.

Nobody notices, except perhaps the person they're supporting, and they certainly don't gain recognition outside the group.

The support does things like draw the enemy in for an ambush, make sure their ally won't die and has the upper hand, healing if necessary, perhaps hitting the bad guy on the head (or Deceiving him) to stun or distract him while her ally finishes him off.

Not even statistics will show where she helped.

Officially, she'd always be lagging behind, barely keeping up with Tiffany, perhaps piggybacking into anything to do with Tiffany - such as that recognition as an honorary member of the Vigil. If Fiona had been in the main battle, away from Tiffany, she'd just have been hanging around and helping out, and General Almorra would have thanked her and sent her on her way.

Fiona doesn't particularly like this state of affairs.

She wants to be recognized for her _own_ worth, not Tiffany's. She doesn't want every notable thing she does to be centered around Tiffany.

You saved Tiffany's life! Good job!

You helped Tiffany defeat a bazillion centaurs! Awesome!

You enabled Tiffany to be able to deal with a threat! Yes!

You fought beside Tiffany and never let her down! You're a great friend and sister!

Fiona doesn't mind helping Tiffany - she _likes_ helping Tiffany, does it all the time. But she does have her own life to live. Using the Mortis Verge had been awesome. She had stood out for her own self that time, for her own Order. Tiffany was completely unrelated, and Gixx telling her afterward that he would have promoted her if he could had generated a warm glow in her chest.

Pride, is what it was. Pride at being recognized, pride at being, finally, somebody other than 'Tiffany's sister.'

Even Vriré had commented on her importance to defending Lion's Arch; the Whisperers alone couldn't have dealt with the threat, and her thinning of the forces on the beach had helped tremendously.

Only in the Vigil were her efforts downplayed, outdone, in the eyes of the soldiers, by Tiffany's own defense of the asura gates.

Fiona doesn't resent Tiffany for this. Tiffany is taking the role of the player character; the best (or so it seems) at everything, _particularly_ in the field of fighting. Fiona doesn't doubt that Tiffany will be the Pact Commander; in the game, the Pact Commander had been a figurehead to rally behind, the leader and awesome combat fighter to a bazillion small strike forces.

No way is mesmer support Fiona gonna do Pact Commander - even if Tiffany didn't exist or there were going to be two Commanders.

Fiona would love to be the Commander. The Commander is the person - side by side with Trahearne and Destiny's Edge - that everybody respects and knows is reponsible for winning the war or killing the Elder Dragon.

Even if she was only mesmer support Fiona as Pact Commander, that would still be true.

But she knows that Tiffany has that position nailed down. Even if Trahearne sees how vital Fiona is to Tiffany and they're both Commanders. It'll always be 'Tiffany and Fiona.' Always second, despite alphabetical superiority. Names are _always_ said in alphabetical order for some reason. Fred and George come to mind. Why in the world anyone would care which order you said it in, it's always Fred and George, not George and Fred. Even when they mixed their names up and it was Gred and Forge, still the one that _should_ have been Fred is first.

And Fiona doesn't particularly want to be 'Commander Tiffany's twin sister.' She wants to be Commander Fiona… or maybe nobody. Maybe she could be a random Priory Magister that is important for her own things; she could be Magister Fiona, recognized for Priory things instead of Vigil things as the Commander is bound to be.

Except for her Wyld Hunt. She has to stick with Tiffany, to protect and support her. She can't do that if she isn't beside Tiffany.

That's what irks her. She could be somebody for herself, but instead she will always be second best to Tiffany because her Wyld Hunt calls for it.

And maybe some romantics will get starry-eyed over her devotion to her sister because of _destiny_ or _fate_ or something - but yeah, that happens to about everybody at some time or other. Tiffany is the sort of person who would appreciate that, not Fiona.

And, of course, Fiona isn't particularly happy about this. But she knows it is important; she knows her own role to Tiffany's well-being. If Fiona wasn't there… who knows what would happen.

Fiona isn't going to not support Tiffany; she's just… annoyed? Irritated? Rebellious? Something like that. She would rather not be pressured into it - and she isn't, not really, but still - because she loves Tiffany, and would have done it anyway - well, maybe - just to a lesser degree. Without this, she may have gone and been Magister Fiona somewhere, leading a research group in Fort Trinity, maybe, and supported Tiffany from afar, or hung around her still and… Fiona doesn't know.

She would have figured something out. And it would - probably - have not been anything like what she knows she has to do now - stick by Tiffany, everywhere. Stick by her physically, be there when Tiffany needs her emotionally… yeah. Pact Commander Tiffany and her sister, Fiona.

But it's almost… it's… depressing, knowing that she's giving up her goals of recognized individuality. Sure, everyone around her - Tiffany, maybe even Destiny's Edge - will know that Fiona is important to Tiffany, and is instrumental to anything Tiffany does. But that's… not enough.

Being recognized as important by your friends is one thing… but… Fiona wants to be recognized outside of that. Like when she'd used the Mortis Verge. And that won't happen; and Fiona already is feeling unfulfilled by the destiny laid out before her… she could _really_ use some Deception-induced mental exhaustion right now.

* * *

This is only the second time he had been within the Dream, and the reunion is more quiet joy than anything else. The Dream _had_ been a welcome presence, guiding him through life, but he hadn't actually Dreamed since he'd awoken, twenty-five years before, after having become close companions, into a world that had never seen one of his kind before.

Over the years, the Dream had guided him through life, in learning both about the race that he is the first of and his own life. He and the Dream are fast friends and companions.

Seeing Orr again, within the Dream, had troubled him to a great extent. He had never forgotten the pallor and unlife of Orr as it is seen in the Dream, but the shock of the feelings, the clarity and depression, are vibrant in his mind, and it feels as if his Wyld Hunt had been renewed all over again.

Then Tiffany and Fiona had revealed that they were from another world - and without the Dream's soft touch for six months? Trahearne can't imagine such a thing; there had never been a moment of his life without the Dream. If he traveled to another world - not that he can imagine what one would have been like - and lost the Dream, he is sure he would panic, first, then despair and maybe even end it all.

He hadn't questioned their testimony, of course - the Dream had confirmed it. The Dream is one of the reasons why it is almost impossible for a sylvari to lie to another sylvari, and even the Aspect of Deception cannot mask the Dream's connection. Only the Nightmare can do that.

When they had explained that they'd _never_ experienced such an intimate connection with the Dream, he was aghast - but at least their independence when without it explained. He'd briefly thought for a moment that they had been Soundless in the other world, but that is dismissed just by the pure joy on their faces at being one with the Dream - a unity as deep as that of any sylvari.

He can feel them as if they are sylvari, an interesting experience - as if they had appeared out of thin air. That had never happened before, even with new blooms - he could feel _their_ connection with the Dream long before they awakened, a connection that grew into itself so that the Menders of the Grove always knew when they were going to awaken.

When the Pale Tree had told him they were on the road to Arah, a shiver of fear had passed through him - he is as vulnerable in the Dream as in Orr, and he would prefer not to die here, of all places - within the Dream and not truly within Orr, and not particularly doing anything toward the completion of his Wyld Hunt, either, a state that disquiets him whenever he is in it.

Then came the real shocker; a vision of himself, rallying troops around him - not just that, but calling upon 'all races, all paths of life' - and he'd seen a mix of Vigil and Whispers and Priory all together under a new banner; what is this?

He had been less disturbed by this seeming union of the Orders and more by his role in it; some sort of captain, it seems, leading a unit into Orr - but why?

What cause could he have for doing such a thing? In a fortress on the road to Arah, of all places, where they would surely die, all of them.

Tiffany - the real Tiffany - had asked him whether he could picture himself leading like that. He honestly doesn't know; perhaps, if his Wyld Hunt was completed, his knowledge would be very valuable for any force moving on Orr - but why was he an officer, leading them into battle? He isn't even a member of _any_ of the Orders, let alone the Vigil, and he can't see himself joining any of them in the near future, even after his Wyld Hunt is completed. The Priory already has all his research on Orr.

Fiona had told him to imagine if he didn't have a warning this would happen, but Trahearne can't imagine this happening in the first place. Maybe it would be easier if he _hadn't_ had a warning, hadn't had to wonder over it.

Then a group - scouting, it seems - consisting of several of his friends as well as the asura - Lightbringer Vriré - that had been at Claw Island. They'd reported to him - some of the highest ranks in the three Orders, reporting to him? What had _happened_ in this possible future?

In the following fight, the vision of himself had slotted in and worked well with the scouting group, and the rest of the multi-Order soldiers had methodically exploited weaknesses in the Risen like they'd been doing it all their lives.

After the fight, the vision of him had moved off to talk with the visions of Fiona and Sieran. They'd discussed their scouting group - apparently, the six of them (well, six, including Beorn, it seems) are the only ones of their rank. But then why were such valuable soldiers wasted on scouting, even this far into Orr?

The chain of command in any organization pyramids - only six - five, actually - of a single authority level is very near the top.

He'd been further shocked to hear himself giving them orders and instructions on where to go and what to do next, and even more shocked to see the vision of Fiona salute with a friendly smile, but with all sincerity and respect behind the gesture - a gesture which Sieran had copied.

This means that he, Trahearne, is even higher up the command chain than this group of five? How is this possible? Not to mention how absurd Sieran saluting him is - Priory don't even _do_ saluting.

His suspicions about the high ranking of himself and his friends is confirmed when Fiona and Sieran split and take command of the multi-Order troops that had fought with them.

He'd seen the Pale Tree manifest herself in the distance, and, eager to get some answers, had pointed her out to Tiffany and Fiona.

She speaks first to Tiffany and Fiona - she doesn't tend to speak directly to people she doesn't know that well, which is another odd thing today - but her words are even more cryptic than when she does. He knows it has something to do with Caithe and her guild, Destiny's Edge, and that this particular problem is going to be resolved by Tiffany and Fiona.

This, however, just gives him a chance to speak to his Mother alone.

"Mother, that battle," he begins hesitantly. "I don't understand. I'm no general - particularly not one in command of the three Orders."

Mother smiles gently. "My son, sometimes only knowledge of the future helps us do what must be done."

Ah, so the Pale Tree is just a mysterious version of Tiffany, correcting him with a 'yes, you are a general' whenever he makes a casual observation to the contrary. _'Pale Mother,_' Trahearne realizes,_ 'the Dream has to deal with this kind of confusion all the time!_' Of course, not really - because the Dream knows all the explaining bits in between, as well. But does it really have to be so… cryptic?

"Trahearne, if you knew all of the future you would have no chance to grow," Mother explains softly, as if having read his mind. She probably understands his exasperation, at the very least. "Imagine if you knew ahead of time how the resolution of your Wyld Hunt would turn out; would success be so sweet, if success there is? Would you continue trying if defeat were your fate?"

He hadn't thought of that before. And maybe - just maybe - knowing that such a thing as him being a field officer is possible might be the only reason it becomes a true eventuality.

He nods slowly, still unsure; but then, the in-between events that explain things haven't happened yet, and this is only a possible future, alerting him of a chance. It may never come to pass, even without a conscious decision on his part.

He is still curious to know if this vision of himself waited to lead this odd union until after the completion of his Wyld Hunt, but he realizes he doesn't want to. Knowing one way or the other would just complicate matters, as the Pale Tree had said.

"Continue with your sisters," the Pale Tree tells him. "There is more yet to be revealed on this road."

* * *

Trahearne turns and approaches the two humans, realizing several seconds too late that Mother had just called them his sisters. '_Sisters?_' he wonders. They are as one with the Dream as any sylvari, true. But biological - or, in this case, mental - familial relationships are hardly recognized by sylvari; it is spiritual ones that matter.

Does he see them as his sisters? He ponders this question as he joins the two shaken-looking twins. He doesn't know them all that well, but he would consider them friends, at the very least. Sisters… he glances at Fiona, then Tiffany, sparing a glance for Beorn as well. Not yet, but perhaps soon.

At least _this_ revelation of the future is something he can understand. If the prior vision of him being a leader comes true, he will probably be seeing a lot more of them.

"So you don't think it was just Zhaitan that made Orr so dead?" Fiona asks suddenly.

"No," Trahearne confirms, reluctantly leaving his musings aside. "Zhaitan would not have toppled these towers and destroyed Arah - at least not deliberately. I believe that was a mixture of the Cataclysm and Zhaitan's awakening."

"Didn't the Cataclysm just kill people?" Fiona asks.

"Yes," he agrees, "but the sheer amount of magical power released in the spell - enough to cover all of Orr, killing everything - would be almost corporeal. If it wasn't the cause, it at least was the reason the buildings were weakened enough to fall when Zhaitan arose. It is why I do not think the Cataclysm had anything to do with the preservation of what scant relics I have found in Orr."

"Huh, I never thought of that," Tiffany murmurs to herself.

Trahearne frowns slightly, wondering what the comment means; he knows she is a member of the Vigil, and not particularly interested in research and other such scholarly pursuits - why would she sound interested and surprised that she hadn't thought of something in relation to Orr?

"Hey, I once had a question," Fiona says after a moment. "How could Orr sink? I mean, how was it held up to begin with?"

"The same as any other continent-sized island?" Trahearne says, turning it into a question.

"So the magic of the Cataclysm must have eroded away the supports," Tiffany notes. "And maybe the reason it didn't utterly destroy Orr more than it already did is because it only did than when mixed with Zhaitan's magic?"

Trahearne nods - the theory is a good one. "It couldn't have been Zhaitan itself, because Zhaitan didn't awaken for more than a hundred years after Orr sank."

"But hey," Fiona inserts. "Wouldn't Orr have fallen on top of a sleeping dragon and stayed up? Or maybe the Sea of Sorrows is just that deep that it can hold a whole continent _and_ an Elder Dragon."

"It depends on how much of the submerged portions of Orr were eroded by the odd mix of the Cataclysm and Corruption," Trahearne notes.

"Corruption?" Fiona asks. "You mean like Zhaitan's magic?"

"Partially," Trahearne nods. "Close enough for our discussion - and if you want to know more, I can explain at the close of our current topic."

Tiffany nods. "So what you're saying is, perhaps _everything_ underneath Orr was eroded away, and Orr is pretty much just a floating bit of land now?"

"Yes," Trahearne agrees. "That, or Fiona's theory that the Sea of Sorrows is deeper than we think, or else Zhaitan is smaller than we think. I believe it to be a mix of the first two."

"That makes sense," Fiona nods. "But what about when Zhaitan came out? He pushed Orr back up, making the Great Tsunami, but then he came out and sat on it. Wouldn't Orr sink _again_ if all its supports were gone, plus the bigness of an Elder Dragon on top of it?"

Trahearne frowns in thought. He'd never considered that before.

"Maybe there's _another_ Elder Dragon underneath Orr!" Tiffany suggests. "There's that big one somewhere in the Unending Ocean, right? Maybe it's actually underneath Orr."

Trahearne shakes his head. "No, it certainly is not. Zhaitan is the only magical being anywhere near its size in Orr."

Tiffany nods in agreement. "Alright." She sinks into silence for a moment, thinking.

"I believe that Zhaitan needs a base, so it is supporting Orr with its own magic," he continues. "It would be a rather easy feat for an Elder Dragon. A few other possibilities are that not _all_ of Orr's supports were destroyed - just the ones around Zhaitan, or just enough to sink. There are many places of Orr that are still submerged, and Orr could easily have been higher against the waves in its days of glory."

"Oh, that's interesting!" Fiona declares. "Maybe there's a bazillion underwater secret tunnels to underneath Orr that people used, and now they're too far down and there's a lot of interesting stuff in there. Hey, maybe they're the same ones Zhaitan used to get out from under Orr! Maybe there's some top-secret magical device that was there before Zhaitan awoke - like the asuran Central Transfer Chamber!"

"Wouldn't they all drown?" Tiffany counters. "It'd have to be just elementalists and their friends, and depending on how the subterranean underwater caves worked, it would be quite draining on said elementalist."

"The Orrians had many useful magical devices," Trahearne tells them. "They could easily have infused a device with the Natural power required, and - since the Aspect of Nature draws its power from the surrounding environment - would recharge on its own." He falls into silence, contemplating the fact that there could be a lot more to Orr than he thought - if there are such caverns, who knows how extensive they could be. Perhaps the supports of Orr being riddled with caverns is the actual reason the Cataclysm sank the land - maybe it didn't have anything to do with Zhaitan's Corruption at all, or maybe the mix only worked in such places.

But in that case, any knowledge contained in the caverns would be long gone, or else at the bottom of the Sea of Sorrows.

Without realizing it, they had come to a mountain, into which a cavern burrows, exquisitely carved and obviously of some important function. Trahearne is instantly interested, wondering what secrets are held inside.

"My children," Mother speaks softly, and Trahearne looks up in surprise. He hadn't noticed her. "This," she continues, gesturing toward the tunnel behind her, "is the royal tomb of the kings of Orr. Enter and find truth… but be warned, the future can change in the blink of an eye."

Well, yes. But the Dream wouldn't have shown visions that had a hundred to one chance of happening - but then, maybe it would, if showing them would increase the odds of them happening.

Mother's Avatar fades away, and the three progress forward through the tomb. Trahearne sees several things of note, and is almost eager to finish their goals here before returning to Tyria and investigating this cavern in a more ethereal setting. 'Almost' - because his desire to stay here, surrounded by the Dream, wars with his hunger to cleanse Orr.

Next to him, Tiffany inhales sharply. Trahearne glances ahead, and sees an Eye of Zhaitan swiveling to look at them.

The four of them leap into action, drawing their weapons.

Trahearne had never fought an Eye before, and certainly never this close to Arah, the seat of Zhaitan's power. He fully expects them to die here, or at the very least permanently injured before the Pale Tree draws them out of the vision.

A ghostly figure on the far side of the room says "we will speak, once you have proven your worth against these wretches." Trahearne glances at it, then refocuses on the fight, reaching out with Renewal to leech the Eye's lifeforce - of which it has too much for that to be an advisable tactic.

Most of the things Trahearne tries don't work. Immobilizing it is hardly effective, since a look can kill - literally. It is too full of Zhaitan's magic for Renewal to counter it very effectively.

Trahearne withdraws Renewal from the Eye, his mind racing to figure out how to help.

"It's not - " Fiona gasps in pain as a magical beam impacts her and sends her flying.

"Keep using Renewal!" Tiffany shouts. "It's vulnerable with Renewal in it!"

Realising what had happened, Trahearne instantly saturates the Eye in Renewal. He glances back at Fiona, who has yet to rise from where she had fallen.

He redirects a thread of Renewal to the fallen mesmer, stimulating her natural healing and recovery systems and providing lifeforce in the form of energy and cleansing the Corruption that had entered her body. After a moment, she regains consciousness and rejoins the fight, nodding gratefully in his direction.

Having flooded the Eye with Renewal in direct counter to Zhaitan's Corruption, Trahearne can feel the build up of excessive Corruption in the center of the huge Eye. Renewal swarms around the gathering of Corruption, trying to stop it.

It doesn't work, but the ray of Corruption lancing from from the Eye is weakened. Tiffany is merely thrown back several feet, where she remains on her back, panting at the roof for a moment before getting up again.

The Eye lashes out at Beorn, spinning and flailing with the trailing, rotten bits of flesh. The bear is flung across the room, deep lacerations across his abdomen. He gets up quickly, but collpases again with a roar of pain.

Tiffany is by his side in a flash, reaching out to heal him.

"No!" Trahearne shouts. "He's been infected with Corruption - don't heal him yet, or it will be sealed inside him." While Fiona distracts the Eye, Trahearne hurries over to the bear and touches softly with Renewal. Renewal picks up rage and anger at the Corruption spreading throughout the bear, and flushes it out. Black tendrils of Zhaitan's magic escape the wounds, spiraling away into nothing. Being so charged with Renewal, the bear quickly starts healing on his own. Tiffany finishes the healing, and, with a smile of gratitude to Trahearne reengages the Eye, with Beorn keeping a watchful distance from the Eye this time.

It is draining, but Trahearne manages to keep the Eye saturated in Renewal, weakening its attacks and making it vulnerable, while Tiffany, Fiona and Beorn work to take it down.

But Zhaitan's small proficiency with the Preservation school of magic - one of the four schools that, combined in different ways, make up the different Aspects - keeps healing the Eye, and Trahearne is weakening.

But then, the scouting group from earlier - minus the visions of Tiffany and Fiona - enter the fray.

Twin exclamations of the names of Forgal and Sieran alert Trahearne to this new development, and, heartened by the arrival of allies, strengthens his magic-strangling magical hold on the Eye.

Vriré and Forgal run up close to the Eye, dodging its tentacles and cutting them off when they can. Sieran raises walls of stone and earth to block the Eye's destructive gaze, and when the Eye spins, lashing out, Trahearne can tell it moves slower and more sluggishly while expending more strength and energy.

After not too long, the Eye is weakened enough that Trahearne's Renewing hold on it gains a foothold, and he can now stop the Eye's magical attacks altogether.

The Eye, noticing this, just uses that energy to heal its missing tentacles, and grow some more. Trahearne is now too busy curing Corruption to work with the new magical advantage, though he doesn't give up what he has.

The Eye - which now has many arrows sticking out of it, making it look quite ferocious and scary - moves from its spot, flailing tentacles lashing Sieran and Tiffany, who had been unprepared for it, and moving toward Trahearne, who it now recognizes as a challenge.

That is, until vision-Vriré leaps on it from behind, burying a sword into the top of the huge eye. The whole Eye jerks, twists and shudders, but vision-Vriré's other blade enters it from behind. The asura then holds on to the first one and throws her weight forward, and rides the hilt as it slices in a downward curve, exposing the center of the eye to its core.

The Eye shudders and collapses on the floor, dead. The visions then form a three-man line between the Dreamers and the door, ready to take on more challenges.

Trahearne remembers the ghostly figure that had spoken at the beginning of the fight, and turns in that direction.

"To see the sky… to feel once more the wind, and the sun…" the ghost speaks with longing in his voice - and the characteristic waver and echo of ethereal ghosts - but he turns to face Trahearne, Tiffany and Fiona. "Although my nation has drowned, a slow blood still pulses in its veins," he says, as if to explain why he exists. "Orr was once the heart of Tyria, so full of life. I was the last of a line of proud rulers. Now, my nation is enslaved." Trahearne's eyes widen as he realizes this is the last king of Orr - Reza - but the king continues. "What do you seek here? Orr has nothing left to give, save ash and bones."

"Ash and bones, say you," Trahearne notes, returning his foci to their proper places. "Just a moment after speaking of the spark of life that remains. I had thought better of King Reza."

"No… to a mortal such as yourself, the spark is… distant and far off. Very few are connected with it. Ash and bones are truly the only thing Orr has now, except the foul presence of the dragon, choking out even that last pulse of life. Orr's time is running out."

Trahearne frowns in concern.

"So what, mortal, do you seek here?"

"You said that very few are connected with this spark," Tiffany notes. "Are you one of those few?"

"Yes," Reza says slowly.

"If you can find a way to connect us to the spark, I may be able to find a way to restore Orr," Trahearne tells him.

A flicker of surprise shows in Reza's expression, then, as if realizing something, the former melancholy settles in. "Your hope is in vain," he says mournfully. "Zhaitan can be defeated, but that will not save Orr. Corruption will be unchained, and Orr will fail faster. Corruption must be cleansed from the width and breadth of the land before the Source of Orr's life can grow once more."

"I never intended to cleanse Orr by slaying Zhaitan," Trahearne tells him. "I wield the Aspect of Renewal, Corruption's mortal enemy. If I but had a way to channel the magic of Orr, the untainted and pure, I could find a way."

Reza's face shows hope, hope and joy. "You can do this?" he asks.

"Yes, I know much about Orr," Trahearne says earnestly. "Tell us, how can I come in contact with Orr's heart?"

"Seek the Source," Reza tells him, his voice suddenly destabilizing, growing weak and faint. "Seek the Source… cleanse Orr… seek the Source…"

The ghostly form itself wavers and disperses into mist.

"The effort to call that ghost must have been horrendous," Trahearne realizes, his mind racing as he puts the pieces of the conversation together. "That is no normal ghost - Reza was called here by the Dream. This was no vision, friends," he says, turning to Tiffany and Fiona. "That was the actual ghost of King Reza, here as fully as you or I. He did not realize he was within the Dream, but thought we were actually within Orr… but he was not lying about that connection to Orr's heart - the Source, he called it."

"How do you know he wasn't lying?" Fiona asks interestedly.

"It is exceptionally difficult for sylvari connected through the Dream to lie to each other," Trahearne explains, "and impossible while actually within it. The Dream disallows it."

Tiffany smiles. "Ah, so we're in Tyria's equivalent of Heaven, then." The confusion must have showed on Trahearne's face, because she continues, "Heaven is our version of the Dream's eternal domain. It is supposedly only reached upon death - or the few circumstances where the person didn't technically die - but Jesus dislikes lying as equally as murder and other such things."

Recognizing that this 'Jesus' person must be the Dream's equivalent, Trahearne nods. "Yes, that makes sense - although, if the Dream and your Jesus are true parallels, that may mean curious things about what happens to sylvari after death."

Tiffany blinks once, as if in realization, but doesn't comment beyond a nod and a glance at Fiona.

Wondering at the sudden change in the atmosphere, he continues, "I do not believe there is anything else for us here."

Tiffany blinks, as if remembering where is she is. "Right." she glances at the visions still standing nearby. "What do you think they are? If the ghost - King Reza - was not a vision of the future, then what are these?"

"The Dream is a strange and curious place," Trahearne tells them. "Even I do not understand it. Their presence could mean many things, and until the time comes, we may never know."

"You're starting to sound like the Pale Tree," Fiona informs him as they leave the cavern, a smile on her lips. "All mysterious and stuff."

"And stuff?" Tiffany makes a big show of pondering the words. "I am going to have a long, deep think about what other stuff you could be referring to."

Fiona rolls her eyes at Tiffany. "You think too much," she accuses.

As Tiffany gapes at Fiona, sputtering in shock, Trahearne recalls a similar accusation leveled at him by Caithe many years ago, and he returns to Fiona the same answer he gave Caithe. "The ability to think is the prelude to free will," he tells her.

Tiffany glances at him, her face inscrutable, and nods.

Trahearne wonders about the odd look and what could have happened to cause it, but doesn't ask.

He notices that the visions of Vriré, Forgal and Sieran have been following them, and that all of the group together seem to in a formation.

He, Tiffany and Fiona are walking together so they can talk easily, but Forgal is ahead of them, and Vriré and Sieran behind them. He doesn't fail to notice that they are surrounding him like some sort of guard, and wonders what this means of the future and whether it ties in to the implications of the fight earlier.

The road leads them to a set of steps, which the odd group climb up with some difficulty due to the portions of rubble and large cracks.

At the top, Mother is waiting again. "Your last challenge on the road to Arah will be the guardian of the gate. Beyond this, the Dream is not willing to reveal."

Trahearne notices a thoughtful look cross Tiffany's face.

Fiona inhales sharply, and Trahearne glances back at Mother to see Caladbolg - Riannoc's blade, created and bestowed by the Pale Tree - resting in Mother's hands.

"You know the history of this blade, Trahearne," Mother says gravely. "As do your companions. I gave Caladbolg to Riannoc, who wielded it with bravery and tried to do right. I now pass it on to you, Trahearne. Bear it with honor, and the sword will never fail you."

Trahearne is too utterly shocked to reply.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I would've finished these parts already, except this chapter was just about to hit normal length, and I still have to figure out how to make the guardian of the gate crazy hard.

Everything in Fiona's section was absolutely truthful, and Fiona has proof-checked it. It was a stroke of genius (if I do say so myself), turning her physical rambunctiousness into a Deceptive cunning. It had been a problem for me before. Something along the lines of "why did you choose a mesmer - a Scholar profession, aka silk class - if you wanted to get up close and physical?" was an oft-repeated question until this answer came up.

Also, you may have noticed an oddity at the beginning of the stuff from Trahearne's PoV. I have a terrible disease known as 'Perspective Syndrome,' which is where I can't write from Trahearne's perspective (which is why it hasn't happened before), but it seems to only manifest once I write his name down. So I went with using 'he' and 'him' until I got the hang of it. Say congrats for my recovery from this disease (that would have seriously hampered the _Tassof Series_ had it been allowed to remain uncured)!

Also, here's a omake I'd like to share with you (the ice cream being too frozen one day is what provided the inspiration for this). It's called the Great Cold War of Ice Cream (Pun Intended and Also Halfway False).

"Hey, Fiona," Tiffany says idly as she walks into the kitchen. She sees Fiona eating some ice cream (kind of) and asks for a sample.

Fiona shrgs. "Well, nobody can eat it right now, not until it melts some more. It's too frozen right now."

Tiffany frowns in thought.

Vargok pokes his head in. "There you are!" he comments. "I _thought_ somebody mentioned something being too frozen!"

Fiona frowns at him. "Yeah, and?" she asks curiously.

"I can fix it!" Vargok proclaims. "Ice cream should never be too frozen - I can make it just right!"

"If you don't mind me asking, how?" Fiona queries.

Vargok shows his teeth in a grin. "Scorchy!"

"Saying 'Scorchy' isn't going to - " Fiona starts with a frown, not noticing Tiffany's suddenly white expression. Scorchy is _not_ for use on ice cream.

But Vargok is having none of that. He unhooks his flamethrower from his back and lets out a stream of scorching flames (hence the name) at the ice cream. "There! Melted now!" the charr says cheerfully.

"Hey!" Fiona protests, gaping at the blackened… stuff on the table. "That's not melted, it's _burnt!_"

"No," Vargok corrects her, "it's charred. The best flavor!"

"It's… _charr_ed…" Tiffany bursts into laughter, holding on to the table to keep from falling over. "Why don't you visit more often?" she asks through her mirth.

Vargok shrugs. "What? Charred ice cream - delicious. You don't like it?"

Fiona rolls her eyes. "Hardly. Burnt ice cream - how does that even _work?_ It's not logically possible!"

"Alright!" Vargok says cheerily. "All the more for me, then!"

Fiona's mouth flops open. "You conniving schemer!" she acuses, glaring at him. "You stole my ice cream!"

Vargok shrugs again. "Yeah, so? It's ice cream! All's fair in war and sweets, and since I used Scorchy, this is a bit of both."

Fiona's mouth opens and closes like a fish, too frustrated, flabbergasted and gobsmacked to do anything else.

Later, Tiffany found the last tub of ice cream in the freezer. "No, Vargok," she says warningly. "No Scorchy. Scorching your friends - who are coincidentally body-protecting the ice cream - does not count as war _or_ sweets."

"Fine," Vargok sighs. "I'll try it your way, then - can I have some? I can scorch my own, right?"

"Eh, no," Tiffany sighs. "This one is too frozen, also. We'll have to wait. And yes, you can scorch it on your own once it thaws enough."

"Too frozen?" comes a voice from the doorway, and Tiffany hurriedly moves in front of the precious ice cream. But it's only Zojja. "What?" the asura asks, glancing from Tiffany to Vargok.

"Don't burn it," Fiona says matter-of-factly. "Vargok did that to my ice cream - he's a conniving schemer."

"I would never act with such lack of finesse as to _burn_ something I was trying to thaw," Zojja sniffs. "Let me see it."

Tiffany glances at Fiona in indecision while Vargok yelps at the perceived insult. "Excuse me," he snarls. "I _was_ trying to scorch it! I didn't do anything I wasn't trying to!"

"And I am certainly better at being a conniving schemer than _you_," Zojja snaps back. "We'll see who gets theirs - tell me, was half of it burned away? You sacrificed some to make the rest taste better? You really are pathetic."

Vargok snarls. "A challenge, then. Half it was - if you get more, you win. But I distinctly remember you scorching _me_ very thoroughly, once upon a time."

Tiffany does not look like sharing her ice cream at all. "No, don't melt it," she tells Zojja. "I'll wait for it to thaw naturally."

Zojja shrugs. "Very well, then," she agrees amiably, and takes up a position sitting on the table to chat with them for a while… at the same time as directing a very small strand of the Aspect of Nature around Tiffany and into the ice cream, keeping it quite frozen.

After a few hours, Tiffany frowns at the ice cream. "It's still frozen," she complains, lifing the container up and reading the label. "I'm gonna go check on Gwahir real quick - I haven't visited him in ages. Fiona, guard my ice cream?"

Fiona salutes. "Sure thing, Commander."

Tiffany rolls her eyes at Fiona's ability to call her Commander without any suspiciouns arising, then leaves the room.

Fiona checks the ice cream, wondering if she can eat it herself, but it is still frozen. "It even still has ice on it!" she complains. "I'm sick of this. Maybe I can trick Mat into eating it and getting brain-freeze." She leaves the room.

"Ha!" Zojja crows, snatching up the ice cream and smirking at a now thoroughly confused Vargok. "I froze it, you dolt. Asura like it frozen - because we are the intellectual opposites of the charr."

"Hey!" Vargok snarls at the insult. "It's not my fault frozen ice cream is forbidden in the Black Citadel!"

"Ah, _sure_ it is," Zojja says, rolling her eyes. "Also - " she grins wickedly, channeling Nature again. A short burst of fire scorches the table in a clear line leading from where the ice cream had been to where Vargok is standing. "Blame time. They know I would never be so ineffecient with my magical reserves as to make a scorched trail like that. Besides, you already admitted that eating scorched ice cream ruins half of it - you were just making up for the loss."

Vargok roars in fury as Zojja waypoints out with the ice cream.


	13. Chapter 13: Sylvari Understanding

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Trahearne, after some internal debate, accepts Caladbolg from the Pale Tree, and with it, defeating the guardian of the gate is easy. Once they leave the Dream, Tiffany realizes what it means that the sylvari are connected through the Dream. After some conversation, the Pale Tree tells them that Risen are moving to attack their Order's headquarters. They split up to warn their allies. The Vigil Keep is not in a good situation, and they are forced to retreat. At the Chantry of Secrets, the Risen are mysteriously stopped by a third party… the Icebrood. But why? And, most importantly… how?

* * *

Chapter thirteen: Sylvari Understanding

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

In the first paragraph or so, switch out 'Riannoc' for 'Trahearne' and you've got what I was thinking at the end of HoT and I heard you could use Caladbolg yourself. Even his reasons for accepting are mirrors of mine. Caladbolg is fated to be accepted only hesitantly, I'm sure. I wonder who will take up the mantle of the Knight of the Thorn when I die. Maybe Caithe, or Canach. By then, it will be high time Caladbolg returned to the sylvari.

Also, I apologize for the terrible fight scenes. This chapter has taken an agonizingly long time, and the fight scenes suffered for it. Sorry.

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

'_But Caladbolg is __Riannoc's__ weapon!_' No matter that Riannoc is dead now, Caladbolg is Riannoc's blade. Trahearne can't possibly use it - what would he use it _for_, anyway? He does not have some great and powerful foe to defeat - save perhaps the guardian of the gate that Mother had mentioned - as Riannoc had. No reason to take up Caladbolg the immense mantle of responsibility it carried with it.

Only… he does, if the visions of the future that Mother has shown him are ever to have any base in reality. The only reason to be a military leader in Orr would be to go after Zhaitan - and King Reza's ghost _had _said it was possible to kill Zhaitan. But Zhaitan is an even more powerful foe than Mazdak - the lich Riannoc had set out to slay as his Wyld Hunt had decreed - and Trahearne would only be carrying the weapon to be lost again.

'_Only if you don't trust those at your side,_' a part of him points out. Waine had been untested… but Tiffany and Fiona? Forgal, of course, is a staunch ally, and even Sieran had proven her bravery. He can't say he doesn't trust them - in fact, he knows he could even count on them bringing Caladbolg back to the Pale Tree.

'_But Caladbolg is Riannoc's blade._' As Trahearne's excuses tumble away to the force of logic and reason, even that one falls. Riannoc would have wanted him to take up Caladbolg and slay Zhaitan, the foul dragon that had spawned Mazdak in the first place.

Finally, reluctantly, Trahearne takes Caladbolg from the hands of the Avatar of his Mother. It glows brightly, as it had once before in Riannoc's hands. Trahearne almost gives it back, but forces himself instead to place it within the sheath that had appeared - due to Dream craziness - on his back.

The glow dulls and fades out, but the blade's unique presence - almost as if he was connected to it through the Dream, as well - remains.

"Test yourselves against the gate guardian, and then return to me in the Grove," Mother tells him gently, pointing the way.

Trahearne and his friends continue down the Promenade of the Gods toward Arah - though none of them realize how close to that corrupted city they are - with some trepidation, knowing that the guardian of the gate is going to be more difficult than the Eye of Zhaitan.

They ascend another set of stairs and a large, hammer-wielding figure turns toward them.

Trahearne unsheaths Caladbolg as his allies move forward, and feels a surge of energy as the glow returns, as if the blade is ready to slay the Risen monstrosity.

Through the sword, he feels a new type of magic - as if Caladbolg is a magical focus. Which, come to think of it, it probably is. The Dream reassures and calms him, and imparts a vague knowledge of how to wield the magic that Caladbolg contains.

Trahearne does not understand how magic can be wielded with so little direction on his part - nothing at all, really, beyond an idea of what he wants to happen - but he tries it.

As the guardian of the gate turns its attention to vision-Forgal, Trahearne swings Caladbolg through the air curiously, wondering how Caladbolg's magic would react to his desires to distract and divert it.

As the tip of the sword flashes in an arc, it leaves behind a magical essence. As the swing completes, the energy coalesces, coming together and then surging forward as if it was an ocean wave. As it impacts the Risen guardian, which had been about to crush vision-Forgal, the undead minion pauses for a brief moment, giving vision-Forgal a precious second to get out of the way.

As the others continue bashing the gate guardian mercilessly, Trahearne finds himself stopping lethal blows and distracting it.

Using Renewal probably would have utterly failed, anyway.

He finds a way to electrocute the Risen, as well as forming a magic protection around Caladbolg so that, rather than injuring the undead with the edge, the blade plows into it and knocks it over.

Once, when a small group of Risen approached from behind, and he spun around, panicked and wishing for a way to hold them off or injure them all at once, Caladbolg flung out many small, blue projectiles at random.

After that, he'd turned back to the gate guardian and blasted it with some more lightning - and this time, it didn't get up.

It had been a very anticlimactic fight. Trahearne had been able to stop it from doing very much damage, and it had been weakened from the multiple lightning hits so it didn't move very fast. A quick and easy takedown. Trahearne now knows why Caladbolg was said to be such a legendary weapon, and why Riannoc had depended on it so much.

Trahearne just wants to figure out what other sorts of things Caladbolg can do, as well as figure out the magic that fuels it and what sort it is, and if it has a name.

* * *

Tiffany's vision fades again, as it had upon entering the Dream, and she is again sightless, but surrounded by the Dream as purely as if nothing but it and her and her friends existed in all the world.

It is different, now, to what it was before; no longer is the thrill of being one with the Dream intermingled with joy of having found her God at last, no longer changed by the wish to make up for doubting him before, no longer altered by shame at having considered turning to the Six.

Her subconscious had processed these doubts and fears, and the Dream had set them to rest while she Dreamed of Orr.

Now, the only thing changing her happiness at being one with the Dream is her new responsibility; but the responsibility is part of the Dream, it is a task, a Wyld Hunt bestowed by her Savior.

She drifts for a moment, lost in the Dream's love for her, wrapped up in its cozy embrace. It is an awesome feeling - she held and loved by the Dream, loved more than any other being has the capacity to, loved as if she was the only being in all the worlds.

It loves her, and because it loves her it cares for what she cares for, helps her with what she is passionate about, and guides her to victory in what she desires. It loves what she loves because _she_ loves it, and if that was the only the reason it cared, it would care none the less.

It is, she can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, the best thing in the world - better than anything she can dream of - for those things that she can Dream of are much better.

Her vision returns, and she finds herself in the Grove again, just landing on her feet from floating an inch above the ground. She realizes that the pure space where she is enveloped by the Dream is like an in-between, of sorts. The visions and memories she had seen, the place where all the not-yet-awakened sylvari are Dreaming, _is_ another world. The Dream itself, in its purity, is the space in between, and the vision is its domain as much as Heaven is Jesus'. The vision has no history, no story, no lives solely contained within it, as places like earth and Tyria do; no, the vision is the Dream's domain.

As she gets her bearings, she realizes that the Dream is still with her; in a pocket in her mind, there to commune with and guide her. The thought puts a smile on her face.

Fiona is smiling too, and Beorn is sending her happiness. He has the Dream within him, as well.

Tiffany's next realization is disorienting. She can feel a dozen pinpricks in her mind, each correlating to a sylvari she had met before, each attributing to their existence. Only a few are more defined.

She can feel Trahearne near her, could point to him without looking. She knows, vaguely, that he is a very driven and dedicated individual. She knows it through the Dream, would know it even if she hadn't already known from knowing his future.

She can feel Caithe, as well - she is in Lion's Arch, at the asura gates, making sure the Risen don't try to attack again, waiting for Eir to come up with a plan of attack. She knows without knowing that Caithe is mysterious and secretive, that she does not want to reveal more of herself.

Sieran is at the Durmand Priory. Tiffany can't feel Sieran very well - she is more than the other pinpricks in her mind, but less even than Trahearne, whom she has only started to get to know. The only other thing she can feel about Sieran is that she is optimistic. Well, of course.

One sensation that is more like a tiny hole than a pinprick - an absence rather than a presence - is only memory. What once was, not what now is. Tiffany realizes it must be Faolain, and shudders at what that absence would be like if it was somebody closer - she wonders how Caithe must feel.

Scarlet Briar is there, but everything about her is shrouded. She is, at once, both within the Dream (somehow) and also west of Kryta; she emanates an odd mix of mindless malice and fear; she is also the most even, she is not a presence or an absence, a mix between dead and alive, and, most of all, she is a mix between Scarlet Briar and Ceara. Tiffany wonders if this is an effect of being slowly taken over by Mordremoth.

There are a couple sensations smaller than Sieran, yet more than the pinpricks; and very vague. Eveanin, whom Tiffany recalls now that she is reminded, is a Vigil Crusader, the one who had been present when Scarlet escaped during the centaur attack. Eveanin is somewhere north of Lion's Arch.

The other pinpricks are just names, acknowledgements of existence - probably passing encounters, people Tiffany spoke with perhaps once - most likely all generated on Mat and Ayla's field trip to the Grove so long ago. Yes, she recognizes a few names.

As she shakes her head, trying to make sense of the new sensations - and she does need a word for them - Fiona is in the same state, but just a tad worse.

Right, because Fiona knows exactly the same people that Tiffany knows, plus a lot more of Sieran. Tiffany wonders what having such a connection to Sieran is like - Sieran is like Tyria's version of Luna Lovegood.

Tiffany feels a touch of uncertainty from Caithe, suddenly, then curiosity, and realizes that Caithe must have felt the new links appear.

Once Tiffany recovers from the brief disorientation and confusion, she glances at the Pale Tree's Avatar, then at Trahearne, just to confirm that they are where her mind says they are. She hadn't doubted it, but still…

"Once more," the Tree's Avatar says, "you stand in Tyria. Remember what you have seen, and it will guide and serve you well. Speak with me when you have collected yourselves."

The Avatar gets a faraway look in her eyes, as if paying attention to something else, and Tiffany realizes that she is so much more intimately connected with each and every sylvari, having guided their Dreams since the beginning.

Trahearne seems shaken and thoughtful, and slightly withdrawn.

"Trahearne?" Fiona asks after a moment. "The presences in my head… are they normal?"

Trahearne glances at her. "Yes. You are connected to every sylvari through the Dream, now. You can't feel all of them, not at the moment, but if you walk through the Grove you will feel them, all the life around you. People you know better you can always feel, the level of knowledge you have through the Dream will increase as you get to know them."

"That's neat!" Tiffany declares. "Does it ever get to the point you can communicate with them?"

Trahearne frowns, seems uncertain for a moment, then shakes his head.

Baffled at the odd response, Tiffany glances at Fiona, who shrugs. Deciding to change the topic, she asks, "I suppose you've been inside the Dream a bunch of times like we just did."

"Actually, I haven't," Trahearne replies. "Entering the Dream after awakening is a rare and dangerous honor - I have heard of only a few to do it. I am newly inspired by the experience… yet I feel as if the burden of my Wyld Hunt is growing even heavier."

Tiffany nods. "I understand… I think. As much as I can for not feeling the same call."

Trahearne nods thoughtfully. "You are wiser than many, to recognize that."

Tiffany smiles. "Maybe the cause is that I now feel my own Wyld Hunt."

"Hey! Me too!" Fiona notes, a somber note entering her voice. "It's the same as yours, Tiffany."

Tiffany frowns. "How do you know?"

Fiona smiles mysteriously. "I just do."

Tiffany is disconcerted. "It's just that, for the first time in my life, I believe you when you say that. Mine is really vague, and I'm not sure I could define it as clearly as you, Trahearne."

"It took many years for me to be able to do so," Trahearne explains. "It took Caithe even longer. They're meant to be vague, and you are meant to figure it out."

"Oh, that makes it more personal," Tiffany notes. "Like the companion bond - every bond is different, because the two companions have to figure each other out."

"Exactly," Trahearne nods. "I saw Orr green again, in my Dream. But I hadn't awakened yet, and I didn't know what Orr was. I couldn't understand my calling until I saw Orr."

Tiffany frowns. "That sounds weird, you saying you didn't know what Orr was."

"It should," Trahearne nods. "It means I've done my job well - so far." After a moment, he continues, "I must cleanse Orr. It calls out for aid. But how?" he adds after a moment in a tone of despair. "Can you say you looked upon that place and saw a blossoming future? Truly?"

'_No, not really, but I won't say it._' Tiffany notes._ 'And also, I do know that Orr has a blossoming future. It just didn't look like it from there._' "It was about hope, Trahearne, not truth," she explains. "I doubt anything we saw will come to pass in as much detail as we saw it. Particularly the talking parts," she adds with a grin, before continuing, "the larger implications - I certainly hope so. I hope so with all my heart." Of course, that is completely ignoring the stuff about Destiny's Edge, but Trahearne hadn't seen that bit. Hopefully she and Fiona will be able to stop it - and that conversation had clearly been a substitute for a longer, ongoing argument.

"I know _that_," Fiona teases.

"Yes, and you can't get away with complaining about it anymore, because it's my Wyld Hunt now," Tiffany retorts with a smirk.

"Oh, really? Oh wait, I should've known. I should've known _so_ bad…" Fiona sighs.

"It's your Wyld Hunt to bring one of those things to pass?" Trahearne asks interestedly.

"Partially," Tiffany shrugs. "In the long-winded explanation, I'm supposed to bring the three Orders together so that we can all go beat up Zhaitan and the other Elder Dragons. All for the purpose of protecting people specifically from them. The protecting bit is the core of it, you know. The bringing the Orders together and beating up the Elder Dragons is just a method or means to an end."

"You have a much better idea of what your Wyld Hunt is than I did," Trahearne notes.

"Yes, but then, I do know what the Orders are, what 'people' means, and what an Elder Dragon is," Tiffany teases, but internally, she realizes it's probably because a) she was already going to try, and b) she knows the future.

"Ah, yes," Trahearne nods. "I assume you also know how to get to Zhaitan?"

It takes Tiffany a brief moment to realize that he is joking, and she smiles. "Yes, of course I do," she smirks. "I am going to burrow down underneath Orr using a stolen dredge machine, come up underneath Arah, and stab Zhaitan in the corrupted belly of his."

Fiona starts laughing, hard. Within two seconds, Tiffany is giggling as well, though not as hard as Fiona. Probably because Fiona hadn't heard of the 'dredge machine' tactic used in the Flame Citadel, and doesn't know how effective it is.

"I wish I had the confidence in success that you seem to have," Trahearne notes.

Tiffany tilts her head in thought. "You know, if that vision showed us anything, it is that hope can be a big factor. And my mom always told me to smile, even if I wasn't happy, and I always got happy very quick when I did that. It's the same concept, I think. If you're optimistic about it, if you at least _act_ as if you can, very quickly you will start to believe it."

Trahearne seems surprised in a kind of thoughtful way.

"Children," the Avatar says, coming out of her trancelike state.

Oddly enough, Tiffany doesn't mind being called a child. She has this vague - and as-yet unexplored and untested - theory, that the Dream's presence in her head does not contradict - that the Dream is what made the Pale Tree and her sylvari sentient rather than mindless minions without a master.

"We have much to speak of," the Avatar says. "Come closer, please. Orr has had all hope stripped from it. To confront the dragon, you must first overcome your fears, lest you be consumed by them. Tell me, children, what do you fear? A fear cannot be confronted until it is identified."

Tiffany frowns, thinking. What is she afraid of? Her friends and allies dying, the Pact falling apart or not forming… and the Elder Dragons killing all the people in the world, failing her Wyld Hunt.

"I fear that Orr's last thread of life will fade before I can renew it," Traheane says after a moment. "That the land will never be healed, that it will be a blight on Tyria for eternity, always an open wound, a breeding ground of corruption and disease. That its desperate calls for aid will go unanswered until they disappear and all hope is lost. That, somehow, the corruption might spread, bringing death in its wake to the remainder of Tyria, land and inhabitants alike."

"Fear of death is natural - for with it comes an end to growth," the Avatar tells him. "Yet more natural still is death itself - all things die. But the worst calamity is untimely death, and that, it seems, is what you fear. Yet, unlike so many others, you work to right this wrong. Orr has a stubborn spirit, Trahearne, to have survived this long. The ghost you saw is connected with Orr's life, and now Orr itself knows that aid is on the way. Do not doubt the perseverance of the land's soul, my son - fear only restraint in pursuing your goal."

Trahearne seems thoughtful - again - and Tiffany suddenly wonders how long it will take him to think over all the events of the day.

The Avatar looks at her, and Tiffany mentally scrambles for her reply. "I fear that everything I have been working toward will fall apart," she says quietly. "That I will fail to take the opportunities that have been given to me, and that lives will be lost in the process."

"The future, Tiffany, is vague. Many fear it as they do darkness and the unknown - and yet the future can always be changed by your efforts. As long as you have sincerely done your best, you can never truly fail."

'_As long as you have sincerely done your best, you can never truly fail._' The words echo in Tiffany's mind, and she realizes the wisdom in them.

Fiona speaks, finally. "I fear that we will die in pursuing our goals. That we never finish, that we never complete the tasks assigned us by the Dream. Death itself I do not fear, but the resulting absence of ourselves from the place in which we can bring about peace, or life, or safety."

"It will be dangerous in Orr," the Avatar agrees. "More dangerous than anything you have yet faced. But your efforts and goals will not go unrecognized - your close friends know you, and they will not let your noble goals be forgotten or unaccomplished. Trust your allies, Fiona. They care about you as much as you care about them - perhaps more. Trust them."

Fiona nods slowly. "Thank you," she says quietly. "That is very… thank you."

Tiffany nods in agreement, slightly embarrassed that she herself had forgotten to thank the Pale Tree for her wisdom.

The Avatar smiles. "My goal is to guide and help you… but to know the future, even a mere possibility, can be a great burden. But you must walk this path, and many things have been revealed that I believe will aid you greatly."

"Must these things come to pass, Mother?" Trahearne asks in a rather subdued tone. "Must I take up Caladbolg and travel into the heart of Orr?"

"You must all take up this burden," the Avatar corrects him. "Trahearne, your Wyld Hunt is to cleanse Orr. Tiffany's is to protect people from the Elder Dragons with her sister at her side. Your duties revolve around each other - for Zhaitan's corruption is as much a target of Tiffany's goal as the dragon is."

Tiffany suddenly feels the sensation that is Caithe… _change_. The mysterious sylvari is now in combat, fighting Risen. Apparently one of the dragon champions had decided to relaunch an attack.

She opens her mouth to ask a question of the Pale Tree, but suddenly realizes she doesn't know how to address her. She has been calling Tiffany 'child' ever since she and the Dream were reunited, but Tiffany doesn't feel comfortable calling her 'Mother' just yet. 'Pale Tree' as a name sounds a bit insensitive, and 'Mother of the sylvari' too formal.

But she'd forgotten that the others have the same connection to Caithe she has.

"What of Claw Island?" Trahearne asks. "They keep sending attacks, keeping us off balance. We'll never recover enough to retaliate if this keeps up, and what hope we have gets slimmer by the day."

"That, my children, is not your current challenge," the Avatar says, her voice suddenly tight with worry. "The dragon seeks to destroy its enemies before they can strike. I feel my children calling out to me - Zhaitan has sent its forces to the center of the Orders. Not even the Chantry of Secrets is hidden from it."

Tiffany suddenly realizes that most of the Vigil is currently at Fort Marriner, that the Vigil Keep is only lightly defended. It will most likely be take quite easily by the Risen - all the stores and emergency supplies lost, not to mention the soldiers killed would then turn and join Zhaitan's army. The Priory is even worse - they're scholars, they'll _all_ die and be turned into Risen, not to _mention_ all the knowledge they possess. And the Chantry of Secrets… the whole database in Zhaitan's possession. The whole database.

Fiona had realized the same thing. "We have to warn them, we have to - "

Trahearne nods in agreement. "Let us go, and quickly. I'll find the Order and alert them."

"But you don't have - " Fiona starts in confusion.

"Special A-Key," Trahearne tells her, and comprehension dawns on Fiona's face.

"Farewell, valiant souls," the Avatar tells them. "May your Wyld Hunts be successful, and may your courage illuminate the dark of night."

* * *

Tiffany waypoints, her destination the Vigil Keep, but instead of passing through a split second of nothingness and coming out at the waypoint, as if being shot from one point to another, she feels the waypoint, but she cannot use it - she hits it and rebounds, flying out into nowhere until she hits another waypoint.

She blinks at the totally foreign landscape - no, building. Kind of. She is on a platform above some water, surrounded by other platforms with ethereal-looking bridges between. There is an asura gate on one of them. Aand she is surrounded by Inquest. She tries to waypoint again, but this time the waypoint is as hard as the Vigil Keep one, and doesn't let her through into the magical transportation network. Apparently waypointing into an Inquest lab is a one-way trip - both to the lab and the other side of death, most likely.

'_Oh well. Here goes nothing,_' she decides as Beorn charges the Inquest. She brings out her axes as the Inquest close in. Fortunately, there aren't too many of them, but her fear is that some alarm or other was set off.

She spins through the asura, slicing their heads open. Always nice to add insult to injury with the Inquest, and spilling their brains on the floor is definitely insulting.

Beorn does some decent distracting, as well, and between the two of them, the Inquest are quickly taken care of.

"Alright, next task; get out of here," Tiffany notes. "Can't waypoint out, might as well walk out."

She can't jump into the water below her - who knows what it might do, and this whole thing might be a ruse to get her to trigger some lightning trap. She carefully traces her way on the barely-visible bridges to solid ground, then heads through the tunnel in front of her.

She is very nervous. Who knows what might happen - captured, tortured, and experimented on by the Inquest, not to mention not getting to the Vigil Keep in time.

But luck - or the Dream, or fate, but probably the Dream - is with her, and she doesn't encounter any more Inquest, though there are a few close calls.

Leaving the facility is more difficult - she has to fight through Inquest guards - but she manages it. The last one manages to hit the alarm, but Tiffany kills him and tries to waypoint again.

It doesn't work - still - so she runs full tilt away from the facility, only stopping when she comes to a copse of trees, where she tries again. She aims for Snowblind Waypoint - the closest one to the Vigil Keep - and gets through.

* * *

She wonders what could be going on to cause Vigil Keep waypoint to kick her out like that - maybe it's broken - but dismisses the question in favor of how likely the Risen are to win.

As she rushes toward the Keep in a rhythmic, steady run, she hears loud noises - crashes as if rockslides, huge bangs like a million rifles going off at once.

She comes around to see the Keep, and is stunned. Risen are _everywhere_. At least the Vigil is putting up a fight. She sees structures of bone - Orrian trebuchets - in the courtyard, and heads that way.

She meets Warmaster Efut near the place where she fought all the centaurs.

"Warmaster Tiffany!" Efut gasps, panting. "Thank the alchemical processes that inspired your presence. We're under siege!"

"Obviously," Tiffany retorts. "What's going on? Do they have a leader, or are they mindlessly charging? How many soldiers do we have left?"

Efut instantly starts spilling statistics. "Their leader is surrounded by the trebuchets, and our own have been expertly taken down. We're scattered throughout the Keep, but its a losing battle, and I'm not sure - "

"We have to get to their leader," Tiffany tells him. "We don't have any long-range snipers?"

"We've tried, Warmaster, but you know Risen - takes more than a lethal blow to kill them."

"At which point it's no longer lethal," Tiffany agrees. "Alright, we'll have to get soldiers in there. You round up the soldiers, regroup as close to the leader as possible."

"Of course, Warmaster," Efut nods, and dashes off as fast as she can.

Tiffany wonders for a brief moment why Efut is listening to her instead of the other way around - they are of equal rank, but Efut has been around for longer than Tiffany - but dismisses the concern as unimportant.

She charges toward the Risen in the courtyard, Beorn at her side, looking for whatever (yes, she curses the Risen) monstrosity is leading them. Hopefully not an Eye or a Mouth - although she doesn't think they would leave Orr, there are three champions on Claw Island, so who knows what Zhaitan has sent here.

Risen, that's what, and a lot of them. Tiffany has to fight through a bazillion Risen. Luckily, they aren't the resistant type from the Dream, but they're tough, and there's a lot of them.

She gains many superficial injuries, and she can't afford to run past them all. So she stands her ground while Efut gathers the soldiers.

It doesn't take long before the asura approaches, followed by a skeleton crew of two squads - about twenty people. They quickly join in the fight, and tear through a bazillion Risen, but after about ten minutes, everyone is injured, whether by a single incapacitating wound or many smaller ones, and they are all fighting at their weakest.

"Fall back!" Efut shouts finally, her shrill voice punctuating the air. "Fall back, before they destroy us!"

They all instantly fall back, although where to retreat to is still a question.

"Why?" Tiffany asks Efut.

"There are too many, and our soldiers are injured," Efut replies. "We can return later with the rest of the Vigil, but this many Risen - even the normal numbers normally at the Keep would have much difficulty, and we can't spare that many from Lion's Arch."

"Oh dear," Tiffany sighs. "So we let them have the Keep for now?"

"At least they won't gain any more soldiers out of us," Efut replies. "I'll take the soldiers back to Lion's Arch, they can recuperate at Fort Marriner, or - if they're well enough - help against the Risen there."

Tiffany nods. Caithe is still fighting Risen in Lion's Arch, and there are a lot of them.

"How does Zhaitan have this many soldiers?" she asks.

"No idea," Efut shrugs. The asura raises her voice. "To Lion's Arch!" she hollers. "Retreat!" Puffs of blue are all the answer she gets. "They know how to follow orders," the asura nods. "Let us go."

* * *

As Tiffany and Fiona leave the Omphalos Chamber, Trahearne turns to his mother's Avatar, knowing he won't be getting away without taking up Caladbolg in Tyria. Despite his acceptance of wielding the blade, he is still reluctant.

Somehow, it's slightly different now that he's back in the Grove. The Firstborn had spent most of their time in the Omphalos Chamber before Riannoc died, mostly because the rest of the Grove had hardly been shaped yet. So this room is full of memories of Riannoc - most importantly, Trahearne can remember when Caladbolg was first given to him, with the rest of them bearing witness.

But Trahearne had as much as accepted it within the Dream. So when the Avatar produces the legendary blade and offers it to him, he takes it again, fulfilling the promise he'd made on the steps of the Promenade of the Gods.

The whole thing is done in silence, the situation too solemn for words. And any that were important were exchanged within the Dream.

Trahearne's mental vow to try and live up to Riannoc's legacy - for that is how he chooses to view Caladbolg - does not need to spoken aloud. Mother knows him well, better even than he knows her.

Caladbolg feels… alive. Moreso than it had within the Dream. He can sense that it is… alive. The glow is muted and dull, but it is alive. It feels like Renewal - a vague sense of purpose and desire, but contained within the sword. That fits with his theory that Caladbolg is a one-of-a-kind focus for a unique kind of magic.

Trahearne wants to investigate this theory, but he gets the feeling there will be very little time for such things. Of course, sylvari intuition is more akin to Dream interpretation.

* * *

At the waypoint to the cave that leads to the Chantry of Secrets, Trahearne appears, the thorn of the Pale Tree sheathed, but ready for use.

He proceeds into the cave with caution. The Risen do not seem to have come yet, but the place is deserted. Agent Xinn, the guardian of the cave, is absent, and he can hear nothing from farther within.

Inside the Chantry, he notes that the Whisperers within are talking in hushed voices, and jump at small noises.

"Trahearne!" comes the voice of his friend, Tybalt Leftpaw. "Good to see you here!"

"I'm glad to see you, my friend," Trahearne greets him. "What is going on? The Chantry seems to be on edge."

Tybalt frowns. "Whisperers have been disappearing recently. It started - oh, maybe half a Season ago? Maybe even before that. It started slow - just one or two here and there. We couldn't pinpoint any commonalities between the disappearances, but they're always Lightbringers or privileged Agents and their partners. Initiates are left alone, it seems. But they've been disappearing more rapidly."

"No commonalities," says Tybalt's partner - Agent Kennan. "Except that some of those disappearances happened to long-range Whisperers coming back. And some Whisperers never gave their first report on an assignment. Some have decided that whatever it is is happening right outside the Chantry - and Agent Xinn was the first that we noticed."

"And none of their files have reported them dead," Tybalt adds grimly. "They're just gone. Lightbringer Deial wanted to hook a Lightbringer's A-Key up to Lightbringer Vriré's new tracking device and send him out as bait, but Lightbringer Vriré put her foot down and said she wouldn't risk the lives of Whisperers - especially not since we've lost so many already and her monitoring does no more than record location."

Trahearne frowns. "Half a Season ago?"

"Roughly," Kennan reminds him. "We don't know for sure, since it started so slowly. Whisperers used to go missing all the time - either killed randomly, or captured, or dropped off the board - but they normally come back after a bit. We can't be sure when it started - it may have been going on for years."

"That doesn't sound like Risen," Trahearne tells them. "They would just assault the Chantry, even if they were led by a lieutenant with some sense. Speaking of which, there are supposed to be Risen coming to do just that right now. To prevent you from retaliating at Claw Island."

Tybalt huffs in surprise. "Well, come on! We have to tell the Preceptors. I think Preceptor Doern is charge of the Claw Island problem, so we can talk to Preceptor Valenze or Preceptor Halvora Snapdagger."

Tybalt leads him through the dark passageways of the Chantry of Secrets, until they come upon a sylvari with a light blue aura."

"Trahearne," Preceptor Valenze says. "Nice to see you. Given the panicked look on Agent Kennan's face, I assume you bring news of the Risen?"

"I do. They are massing an attack on the Chantry at this very moment."

Valenze nods seriously. "Alright, Trahearne. I'll make sure this information gets to everybody. Do you have a timeframe?"

"No. The Pale Tree said that she saw the Risen entering battle - that was only a few minutes before I arrived at the Chantry. I would have expected them to be here already."

Valenze frowns. "That is… odd, certainly. Would you mind joining a scouting party to gather information?"

"Not at all," Trahearne replies. "I just hope my warning can be of some advantage to the Order."

"Thank you," Valenze says. "Take Tybalt and Kennan with you, and I'll send - " Valenze stops abruptly, grimaces, and moves on. "I'll send Lightbringer Cirino Lucente with you. She's a good tracker, and has a touch of Renewal on her side. She'll meet you by the portal out of the Chantry."

"Come on, Trahearne!" Tybalt says urgently. "From what I heard, last time you predicted an attack, dragon champions showed up. Who knows if one of them is leading the charge against the Chantry?"

The three head back to the entrance. Trahearne feels the Renewal before he sees the Lightbringer that had been sent to meet them.

"Trahearne," she says respectfully. "Preceptor Valenze sent me. We are tracking the Risen, correct?"

"Yes," Trahearne replies, feeling oddly unnerved by Lightbringer Cirino's behavior. "They should have been here by now."

Lightbringer Cirino nods sharply. "Understood."

The group of four leave the Chantry, and Trahearne sets out in a southerly direction. After a few minutes, he reaches out with Renewal. It blends with Lightbringer Cirino's Renewal, extending further. There are always Risen further south of the Chantry, but any such gathering of Risen that would be necessary to attack the Chantry will be easily detected.

Suddenly, a ripple, a disturbance in Renewal, brings news of Corruption. Renewal is gleeful, however, positively happy. Trahearne and Lightbringer Cirino turn toward it as one, led by Renewal.

Shortly, they come upon a smoking crater. The residue of Corruption is all around. Apparently, somebody - or something - had intercepted the Risen sent to fight them.

"Look - ice," Kennan points out, his voice betraying his confusion.

Lightbringer Cirino's face is hard. "That's not ice, that's Jormag's corruption. We're dealing with Icebrood."

"What would Icebrood be doing this close to the Chantry?" Tybalt frowns. "Why would Icebrood fight Risen?"

"We don't know what happened here," Trahearne points out. "Anything could have taken place. And the Icebrood had a powerful magician among them."

"How do you know it was the Icebrood, and not the Risen?" Kennan asks curiously.

"Risen wield no magic but that which has been twisted by Corruption," Trahearne explains. "Renewal can sense anything touched by Corruption. No great magic was used here that was touched by the dragon's influence. This crater was the doing of the Icebrood - or of some other being that left no trace of itself."

Lightbringer Cirino frowns. "We must warn the Chantry. All the Risen were killed, but the Icebrood… might not have been."

Agent Kennan's eyes widen. "Maybe the Icebrood are what have been causing the disappearances of the Whisperers?"

"It's a possibility," Tybalt huffs. "But why?"

That question, as it turns out, is one that will haunt the Chantry and the Order for quite some time. The disappearances continue, occurring more rapidly, yet nobody ever is witness to it and it is never found out. Being chosen as a Lightbringer is now a dangerous honor, and nobody leaves the Chantry except in large groups. Though cameras are left outside the Chantry, they are destroyed by an unknown force, at times corresponding to the disappearances.

But nothing more is learned by the Order. No witnesses are left. And the Order begins to doubt that the Icebrood are behind it. No Icebrood could be this smart, this tactful.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Yeah, spooky ending! And also the first time I've told you the future before it happened, but I doubt I'll get any more chances.

Anyway, I was going to put the bit with Fiona and the Priory in, but it got really long, so I'll put it in the next chapter.


	14. Chapter 14: The Flight of Time

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: Fiona and the Priory are trapped underneath the Durmand Priory by Risen for nearly a whole day. Tiffany and Trahearne come and rescue them eventually, but the point is driven home to everybody that the Priory just can't handle Risen would time and preparation. Yet another battle occurrs in Lion's Arch, with the Vigil rebuffing the attack, but Forgal decides that the Vigil needs the Keep back - they can't hold off an invasion with just the equipment from Fort Marriner. Preceptor Doern sends Vrire to scout out Claw Island. She has one conclusion; the Order can't deal with this. There isn't any more time.

* * *

Chapter fourteen: The Flight of Time

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

I think I've been off my game recently… no pun intended. I've just noticed that my writing has been below par this chapter, and maybe the last one, too. However, this is just because I'm hitting a very big milestone as a writer - at least in my opinion. I'll overcome this obstacle and be better for it!

But still, you might get a couple of late chapters, and they might be slightly confusing/messed up or something - like a scene I'd intended to delete but didn't - so tell me if you notice any of those!

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

Fiona runs into Risen immediately. She'd run on foot from Lion's Arch, since the Priory is close enough and she doesn't want to pop into the middle of a battle.

The Risen swarm her, lots of Risen, and she is surprisingly ineffective. She is, she has to admit grudgingly, better at playing support with an ally. Chaos magic is difficult to summon, and it doesn't work all that well on Risen anyway. Her illusions are just there to confuse the enemy and divert attention from her - they can't do anything special and are like focuses in the fact that they will let her do more of what she can do.

She is expending a lot of mental and magical energy with physical illusions - the part of Deception that makes the illusion solid. Having a simple item to work with that she can alter is much easier, and normally Tiffany's arrows work, but she has nothing like that now. She does much better with enchanting pre-existing objects than creating whole new ones.

The Priory are fighting, and doing a fair job of it, too - even Ogden Stonehealer is out, swinging a stone hammer and pulverising Risen skulls, making them useless even if they could rise again.

But they are off away by the Heart of the Priory - the showy pillar of light that stone tablets rotate around - and Fiona is back by the entrance and waypoint. Her portals are being blocked somehow, so she can't get close enough to influence the battle.

Her basic illusions - swords popping out of the ground, magical orbs bouncing around - aren't that effective in a solo fight. She walls up the space between her and the Risen, hoping that the way they know where she is is not based on an ability to see through Deception.

It doesn't seem like it - they leave her alone after that. Now she has to figure out how to use illusion magic to destroy them all.

Deception itself isn't giving her any ideas.

She has to either kill the Risen or get past the Risen to help the Priory. There is no efficient way to kill the Risen - Caithe is still fighting them in Lion's Arch and Fiona wants to help defend the city afterward - so that leaves getting past the Risen here.

They can see through any veil, and they can tell her apart from her clones, so that leaves out conventional mesmer deception*. They don't appear to be making any effort to go through her illusory wall, though, so she might be able to cut them off from her while she sneaks past.

So she weaves Deception into illusion and creates walls, blending them with the walls of the Durmand Priory. She recreates the corridor - but cuts several feet off of it, leaving a small walkway for her to get to her allies.

She hurries down it, praying the Risen don't see through the illusion or even just stumble through accidentally, and makes it through.

The Priory Explorers, led by Sieran, are fighting back against the Risen, and not doing that good of a job in comparison with the Risen. Fiona adds Deception to the battle, inflicting boons and conditions every which way - the sheer amount of which aid her allies greatly.

A single, solid stumbling-block roams the front lines of the undead, tripping the Risen every which way and leading to easy kills. It is draining, though, and Fiona's mental organization is lacking from the number of times she'd been surprised today, scrambling her thoughts and beliefs enough that it is difficult for her to focus on her illusions properly.

The Priory are slowly pushed back, and Fiona finds herself panicking - another thing that is not good for her Deceptive mentality.

"Sieran, what's going on?" she asks. "Besides the obvious."

Sieran looks at her, sudden surprise flickering across her face. "You - "

"The Dream, yes, yes, I'll explain later - if we survive," Fiona returns. "What is the Priory doing? We're holding off the Risen for something, right?"

Sieran nods, her confusion disappearing behind a mask of determination. "Gixx has the Archons and Arcanists - those who aren't here - working double-time on the Mortis Verge, and the Scholars searching for things in the vault. The Novices are building physical blockades to the Special Collections. We're all keeping the Risen away until they're ready. Even Magister Stonehealer is here!"

"I can see," Fiona notes. "I'm guessing 'we' are the battle-ready Explorers and Magisters?"

"Yes, precisely," Sieran nods. "Gixx said we should be able to hold them off until we have something ready. Do you still have the field-test version of the Mortis Verge?"

"No, Josir took it back here yesterday," Fiona informs her friend. "To stiffen up its magical capacity, he said."

"Gah, that's tricky business," a nearby charr snorts. "He'll have to take the whole thing apart."

Fiona's eyes widen. "It would've been better to leave it as it was! He knew the Risen were still a threat to Lion's Arch, why didn't he just adjust the other models?"

"Nobody knows how Josir's brain works," the charr huffs. "He thinks like a sylvari asura - he gets the strangest, most off-the-wall ideas an applies asuran logic and technomancy to it! No offense, Magister Sieran."

"None taken!" Sieran replies brightly. "However, I must suggest that crazy, off-the-wall ideas are the best sort, and the most likely to yield profitable results."

"Everyone knows you think that," Fiona teases. "It's your living."

"Focus on the battle, you dimwits," a norn Magister snaps at them.

Despite following the norn's grumpy order/suggestion, the Risen slowly push them back. There are just too many of them.

"Down the stairs!" calls a voice.

"That'll give them the high ground, don't be an idiot!" another - charr, by the sound of it - shouts.

"We don't have any choice!"

"That'll make it worse!"

"Hey!" Fiona shouts, amplifying her voice while hiding it from the Risen - an altered version of the sound enchantment she uses to communicate with Tiffany. "I can hide the entrance and make the Risen think it's somewhere else. Get out of here!"

"First reasonable suggestion I've heard all day," comes the gravelly voice of Ogden Stonehealer. The dwarf glares at the protestors, then turns to Fiona. "I'll watch your back," he tells her. "You get them to safety."

Fiona nods quickly, and a dozen clones spring up and herd the Priory panickers toward the stairs. Meanwhile, another illusion springs up - it just distorts the air in a wall between them and the Risen, but it prevents them from seeing where the real stairway is.

When the last of the defenders are just a few, Sieran tells her to finish it. "We know where the real stairwell is, just veil it and open the fake one," she directs.

Fiona nods. The stairway disappears from view and another opens up on the far side of the room. Then the distorting illusion drops, and Fiona veils her and her allies. They slip through the illusion hiding the staircase while the Risen swarm the fake one.

On the stairs below, Fiona breathes a sigh of relief and releases all the illusions but the one hiding the entrance. But the battle had taken a lot out of her.

"Sieran, locate the other Deception users that are here, and send them my way," she says tiredly.

Sieran nods and hurries off.

Ogden Stonehealer huffs. "Now we're stuck down here, and the waypoints don't work. The Risen will find their way here eventually."

"But less will die and we can hold out longer," Fiona notes. "Also, maybe somebody proficient with the Aspect of Renewal can ward the Risen away - or maybe we just need an early prototype of the Mortis Verge."

"You've got a brilliant mind, youngster, I'll give you that," the dwarf replies. "I'll admit I'm proficient with my hammer and little else besides a couple tricks of ancient, long-lost magic. Stone isn't a great conduit for magic - the Aspects of Glint are more of the - "

"Aspects of Glint?" Fiona asks, intrigued.

"Ah, yes," Ogden nods. "Lightning, Wind and Sun - the most powerful Aspects within the Domain of Nature."

"What's that?" Fiona asks, intrigued. "I thought it was the Aspect of Nature?"

"That is how it is commonly referred to," the dwarf explains, "but normally only if it is obvious which Aspects of it. In reality, an elementalist - they're probably the ones calling it an Aspect - is using four Aspects, Fire, Wind, Water and Earth. However, they rarely, if ever, can get in touch with that Aspect's full potential, and if they do, it is at the cost of power with one of the other Natural Aspects. Some people get in touch with the gentler side of Nature - this often manifests itself as an affinity to bond with an animal, as well as proficiency with summoning the Spirits of Nature, which are the manifestations of the Elemental Aspects - of which there are more than the four you know - and are not to be confused with the norn Spirits of the Wild - those are manifestations of the animal spirits. All of these things fall under the category of the Domain of Nature."

"Wow," Fiona says, fascinated. "I never knew that. So the Aspects of Glint are specifically Wind, Lightning and Sun?"

"Yes. Glint had Mastered those three, and was capable of harnessing their full power and potential."

"Glint Mastered _three_ Aspects?" Fiona asks, dumbstruck.

"Yes. She was a dragon, and dragons are quite powerful naturally, even the ones that aren't the Elder kind which we all seek to destroy. The Elder Dragons have mastered many arts, combining them into Domains - you would say that Zhaitan's Domain is Death, would you not? Zhaitan does not utilize the Aspect of Renewal, rather, it has twisted Renewal beyond belief, added in some heavily twisted portions of the Aspects of Earth and Water, and made a mockery of Protection."

"How does it use Earth, Water and Protection?"

"I'm not entirely sure how - Trahearne could explain it better - but those are what it used to bind its minions to itself. It is all so twisted and corrupted, most people refer to it as the Domain of Corruption - some people call it the Aspect of Corruption, too. Because of Corruption's base element of Renewal, the Aspect of Renewal has developed a furious hatred of Corruption. Similar things - but much more obscure - have occurred with the other Elder Dragons."

"Like what?" Fiona asks.

"Well," Ogden says, obviously pleased to have such an interested listener, "Kralkatorrik uses quite an odd blend of Aspects - I would even go so far as to say it is the oldest dragon, given that the magic it uses is quite unheard of and ancient. I would say a twisted version of a primordial Aspect of Protection and Aspect of Growth - another Natural Aspect - to create its Branded. The hard shells, you see, are quite Protective, and most Branded get bigger upon Branding. In addition, it seems to have weaved in a smattering of the rest of the magic of the world, as the Branded consistently use other forms of magic, usually whatever they wielded before their Branding."

"Wow," Fiona breathes. "That's interesting. Protection and Growth to make Branded."

"There also might be another Aspect, but I'm not sure," Ogden notes. "Given how ancient I presume Kralkatorrik to be, any number of odd Aspects could have been lost to time. Maybe Kralkatorrik even ate some."

"Ate some?" Fiona asks, frowning.

"Dragons eat magic," Ogden explains, as if it were obvious. "Before the Aspects had enough living beings to attach to as sources, if Kralkatorrik had eaten all the sentient hosts of a particular Aspect, it would live on only in the dragon."

"So I'm partly responsible for keeping Deception alive, by giving it a host to live in?" Fiona asks.

"Yes, exactly! The Aspects have no natural habitat outside of people - and while the Aspects could be formed again through the different schools of magic found in the Bloodstone's pieces, it would be exceedingly difficult, as even the Priory has only the vaguest ideas of where one of them is. The Aspects formed themselves after the Bloodstone was separated but before they were scattered, and - in my personal opinion - the only thing keeping the Bloodstone pieces from dissolving into dust after being separated so greatly is that the Aspects hold them together, even as scattered as they are."

Fiona nods slowly. Her history teachers had told her about King Doric and the Six and the Bloodstone, but they had also explained that those rules were no longer in place, obviously, since the Aspects have nothing to do with any of the schools of magic, or people would call them things like the School of Aggression.

"So, youngster," Ogden says, interrupting her thoughts. "Can you guess what Jormag's twisted Aspects are?"

"Hmm, well, the Aspect of Water, since ice is frozen water," Fiona points out. "But how did it get the Water cold? That's what I've always wondered, since if it is the Aspect of Water, why is it always ice?"

"Another portion of the Domain of Nature is the Aspect of Cold. It is half of the Facet of Temperature."

"The Domain of Nature has got to be the most broad type of magic I've ever heard of," Fiona remarks.

"Ah, yes, but technically everything falls under a Domain," Ogden points out. "The Aspect of Deception is part of the Domain of Knowledge, which includes many different - and mostly old, ancient and very rare - Aspects. The Aspect of Protection is part of the Domain of Life, as is the Aspect of Renewal."

"Wow," Fiona says again. "Magic is so much more… extensive than I thought."

"Perhaps after this whole debacle with the Risen and Claw Island is over, I can teach you all about it," Ogden offers.

Fiona's eyes light up. "That would be _amazing_." But then, she realizes that, after Claw Island, the Pact and the offensive on Orr will start, and if she is to stay by Tiffany's side, she can't study under the knowledgable stone dwarf. She holds back a sigh of regret.

"How in the Eternal Alchemy did you manage to get Magister Stonehealer to make an offer like that?" Gixx asks, shocked. He'd apparently walked up without either of them noticing.

Ogden huffs at him. "By showing a real and true interest in the subject, Steward Gixx. This Magister here wants to know about magic for knowledge's sake, not some silly invention. I see potential in her, and I think she's worthy of it."

Disappointment at her inability to learn about magic seethes inside Fiona, fueled by her pride at being called worthy by the ancient dwarf. It colors her mood, and, far off in Lion's Arch, Tiffany, Beorn and Caithe feel it, and wonder.

Gixx shakes his head in disbelief. "Magister Fiona, Scholar Vivian can hold that illusion for you."

"Thanks," Fiona says, suddenly realizing how mentally exhausted she is. She turns to the scholar. "Vivian, can you feel how I've woven the Deception?"

"Yes," Vivian answers. "What's the sound portion you have there?"

"It's a sound barrier," Fiona explains. "So the Risen don't hear us talking and come running. Also, it might help if you occasionally diverted them by creating another stairway illusion elsewhere. Keep a good eye on whether any Risen are approaching here or not, so you can make the illusion solid if you need to. Another good idea would be to layer another illusion on top of this one - make them think there's a stairway here, but make the illusion underneath solid, so that it acts just like the other diversions."

Scholar Vivian nods. "I can do that."

"You get some rest, youngster," Ogden tells her.

"Thanks," Fiona nods. "See you later."

* * *

Tiffany is worried. The Risen had been repelled from Lion's Arch rather easily, and she is sure it had just been a distraction while the Vigil Keep had been attacked. Trahearne had told her that Icebrood had intercepted the Risen - now _that_ is a concerning problem - but she hasn't heard from Fiona.

Through the new Dream-link, she can tell that, after a few minutes of disappointment or depression, she went to sleep.

"Why would she go to sleep?" Tiffany wonders aloud. She'd been stationed on the scorched platform that had once held the asura gates, to watch the harbor in case more Risen come. Caithe, she can tell, is asleep - or as close to sleep as sylvari come, which is something she'll have to ask about later - and probably the rest of Destiny's Edge are, as well. "She's fighting Risen at the Priory, why would she sleep?"

Nobody answers. Well, that was expected. She's the only one here.

It doesn't seem like she'll be getting the answer to her question anytime soon, so she settles down to sifting through her memories of the day, and trying to figure out how she feels about them.

Thinking about the Dream gives her a warm fuzzy feeling, and the Dream, still curled up like a sleeping cat in the back of her head, exudes peace. But what the Dream had shown her earlier is different. Tiffany suddenly understands the meaning of "the only lasting peace is the peace within your own soul."

Honestly, it is an awesome feeling. She knows she is safe, that the Dream is watching over her… she feels at peace on the inside. But outside, she has all these worries and concerns that she does have to deal with. She feels like a rock in a storm-tossed sea, her core firm and strong, but so many troubles outside. It is… interesting.

And this sense of calm inside will probably help her make decisions through all her troubles. It anchors her, and she feels like she could do anything. She probably could, if she wanted to.

Of course, she does actually have to confront her problems… such as the possibility of Destiny's Edge breaking up again… because of Caithe's secret. Probably the secret of the Mordremoth, though how _Caithe_ knows that makes no sense. It could be something else.

The other thing - that group that had been helping them fight, that herself and Fiona are a part of, and maybe Trahearne as well. She knows nothing like that had ever existed in-game.

However, that means it will probably happen on its own. It is… unsettling, knowing that something will happen, but not knowing how or why. She is used to working with full information or none. The inner peace granted by the Dream reassures her, and Tiffany feels calmer, but she is still uneasy.

The same problem exists with the Icebrood Trahearne had mentioned. What are Icebrood doing near the Chantry of Secrets? _Icebrood_? It isn't even cold and icy down there like in the Shiverpeaks. Icebrood are completely out of place there. So what were they doing? Why? How?

However, the most disturbing piece of information is the mysterious disappearances of high-ranking Order members. Tiffany is still an Initiate - and she doesn't particularly care about advancing any more in the ranks, since Fiona has Agent-level access - so she won't be targeted, and neither will Fiona, probably. Vriré, on the other hand, might be, and she wonders what mystery is behind the fact that nothing has happened to the Preceptors yet.

The Chantry is shielded against waypointing in or out - which is why the waypoint to get in is outside the cave - so there is actually no way to get in or out without risking being ambushed - at least if this theory about it happening right outside the Chantry is true.

As she sifts through the happenings of the day, making sense of them and processing - something that normally happens just before or while sleeping - she keeps returning to the nagging question: what is going on with Fiona? Why is she sleeping, and what's happening at the Durmand Priory?

* * *

Later in the day, the Spar warband come to take her spot, keeping a lookout for Risen.

"Do you know where Trahearne and Forgal are?" she asks.

"Warmaster Forgal is talking with General Almorra about the news of the Vigil Keep being overrun by flaming Risen," Aelius tells her. "My ears, how did that happen?"

"There were a bunch of them," Tiffany replies. "And most of the Vigil were here in Lion's Arch. I hope we can retake it soon." That definitely didn't happen in the game, and Tiffany is getting more and more worried. She already doesn't remember when exactly the idea for the Pact was brought up, and several things have happened that didn't happen in the game - the Icebrood, the Order members being picked off, all three of the Orders' headquarters being targeted by Risen (something ArenaNet would never have done, given the single-player format of the storyline). She is getting worried. "Where is Trahearne?"

"I think he's talking to some two-ears Priory bookworm," Aelius shrugs. "Probably down by the beach."

Tiffany frowns at the disparaging comment about the Priory, but doesn't say anything. "Thanks, Aelius."

"Trahearne, I'm worried about Fiona. She's _sleeping_."

"Sleeping?" Trahearne echoes, frowning. "For how long?"

"Since about an hour after we left the Grove," Tiffany replies uneasily. "That's like all day. She was supposed to be at the Priory fending off an attack. I doubt she'd be sleeping if they failed, and she probably would have come here if they'd won."

"It is possible that she is injured," Trahearne points out.

"Oh," Tiffany realizes. "I should go check on her… hey! Now she's meditating."

"I'll accompany you," Trahearne agrees. "How can you tell? Sleeping and meditating are the same state of mind."

"She woke up and then she went back to sleep, or so it seemed," Tiffany says, her mind only half on the conversation.

* * *

Cautiously, Tiffany pokes her head around the corner. The Priory is deserted, but there are sounds coming from - "Risen," she whispers at the same time as Trahearne, who'd been standing behind her. "And no living."

"They could be on the lower level," Trahearne points out. "There's a stairase down."

"I don't see it," Tiffany notes with worry.

"Possibly it is covered in illusion," Trahearne points out. "Fiona is a mesmer."

Tiffany nods, stepping back from the corner. "And the Priory likely has other mesmers with them. There are too many Risen here to take on on our own, and the Vigil and the Order are busy in Lion's Arch."

"I can get us in," Trahearne tells her. "Renewal can easily mimic the magical signature of Corruption."

"But I don't use Renewal," Tiffany frowns. "I don't use any magic at all, in fact."

"And that is the only reason that what I have in mind will help," Trahearne assures her. "It also might result in… questionable side effects. Such as gaining an affinity for Renewal yourself."

"Really?" Tiffany asks, forgetting how weird it was to hear Trahearne say 'what I have in mind.' "How does that work?"

"I can cover you in Renewal, masking you from the Risen," Trahearne explains. "The fact that you don't have any affinity for a specific Aspect might result in Renewal entering you - it won't harm you unless I tell it to, but it could affix itself to you, letting you use it yourself."

"And that is only possible because I don't have any magic of my own?" Tiffany asks. "That's interesting."

"Most people would be terrified of coming into such close contact with Renewal," Trahearne points out curiously. "It has a rather… dead reputation."

Tiffany grins at the pun, then shrugs. "I wondered that at first, as well. When I first came to Tyria, I wondered how any sylvari would be a necromancer, because sylvari are plant people and plants normally represent life and growth, and necromancy - at least in the old world - was viewed as dark and evil and also completely forbidden by our version of the Dream. But it's obviously not nearly as bad as all that in Tyria. I'm actually quite interested in how it works… But I'd rather discuss it after we finish saving Fiona. That illusion could come down at any time."

"Are you sure?" Trahearne checks.

Tiffany just nods. A moment later, _life_ suffuses her, or maybe energy. It hums in her blood, and at her involuntary gasp at the feeling she tastes - or smells - something that reminds her of the cold, energetic chill of a nighttime breeze and the still beauty of a moonlit night, or woods in the aftermath of rain, back on earth.

"Are you alright?" Trahearne asks.

Tiffany nods, blinking. "Wow, that is weird… good weird, though. I didn't know Renewal had a scent."

"They all have different physical identifications," Trahearne explains. "When Renewal does not manifest through sight, it manifests through scent."

"Oh," Tiffany comments. "Well, let's go rescue Fiona."

Trahearne takes the lead, and Tiffany follows him down the hall toward the Risen.

"Don't act threatening, and be absolutely silent," Trahearne warns quietly. Tiffany nods soundlessly and tries to relax, but when they enter the large room where the Risen are swarming, she finds herself tensing up. She has never been this close to Risen without attacking or being attacked back, and Renewal's hatred of the Risen makes her nervous. Trahearne, on the other hand, acts exactly normal, and seems confident in his ability to remain undetected, so Tiffany tries to ignore the thumping of her heart.

They make their way to the left of the room, not making a noise, but there is no trace of the stairway.

Trahearne, though, reaches out with Renewal - Tiffany can feel it, probably because she is linked to him via the magic - feeling into the nothingness.

Tiffany doesn't know what he is looking for - or how an illusion has anything to do with Reneal - but she knows he can probably find it.

After a moment, Trahearne heads in a certain direction, feeling around with Renewal. Abruptly he stops and motions Tiffany over to him. In silent gestures, he points at a section of floor, tracing a square. He moves to a certain side of the square and steps in, and his foot sinks several inches into the floor. He glances back at Tiffany and motions her in, while he continues down the stairs he'd found.

On the tenth step, Tiffany's head is past the illusion and she can see in to the lower level of the Priory.

"How did you get down here?" asks a nearby norn in astonishment. "The room above is filled with Risen!"

"Necromancy," Trahearne replies. "We heard you needed assistance?"

"Uh… yes, yes of course," the norn replies. "I'll uh… I'll go get Steward Gixx." He turns and barrels off down the hallway.

Suddenly, the feeling of Renewal leaves Tiffany, and she blinks in surprise, before realizing that Trahearne must have ended whatever enchantment it was that allowed her to get past the Risen.

"Do you know the layout of the Durmand Priory?" Trahearne asks her.

"No, I've never been here before," Tiffany replies. "Although, Fiona being asleep makes a lot more sense now."

"That it does," Trahearne nods.

Just then, Gixx comes down the hallway. "Oh, thank the Eternal Alchemy!" the asura says. "I'd been wondering how we were ever going to get out!"

"How did you get trapped in here?" Tiffany asks.

"We weren't ready for the attack," Gixx explains. "The Priory can handle Risen, but we need time - and preferably to be on the offensive, rather than the defensive - but there were too many of them, too soon. By the time we were ready we'd been pushed down here. If we attacked now, the Risen would have the high ground."

Tiffany frowns. She can feel Fiona break her meditation trance and get excited.

"How many people can use Renewal?" Trahearne asks Gixx.

"Oh, several. There's been a rotation on the stairway since we came down here - Magister Fiona's idea."

"Oh, is that how you found it?" Tiffany asks Trahearne. "Cool."

Suddenly, Sieran and Fiona come around the corner. "Tiffany!" Fiona exclaims. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescueing you," Tiffany replies. "I felt you go to _sleep_ when you were supposedly battling Risen. After a while I got worried."

"Oh… well, we kinda do need rescuing," Fiona shrugs, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling.

"We noticed," Tiffany says dryly. "Do you have any ideas for getting back up and beating the unlife out of the Risen?"

Fiona frowns. "Not really… I've been sleeping."

"Ah, right," Tiffany nods sagely. "Does anyone else have any ideas? Like, crazy ones that you couldn't do because you didn't have a crazy Vigil Warmaster and a crazy-awesome necromancer with you?"

Fiona just glances at Sieran. "Maybe?" she shrugs. "Sieran's more likely to come up with those."

"Ah, right," Tiffany realizes. "I forgot there wasn't a Priory version of Warmaster Efut who comes up with crazy strategic plans. Sieran, you got anything?"

Sieran smiles. "Yes, actually! Levitate the completed Mortis Verge on the ceiling and activate it! The Risen will be smashed on the floor upstairs. It would be cherry, but Gixx doesn't like it."

"It has a fifty percent chance of actually catching any Risen, and a further fifty percent of actually killing them," Gixx retorts. "It would also alert the Risen to the fact that we aren't dead. Trahearne, I was thinking something along the lines of sending a few capable Explorers into the midst of the Risen to distract them while the rest of us bring our inventions through the stairway. Do you have any comment on the strategy?"

"I do," Trahearne replies. "Any wielder of Renewal can ward the Risen away from a certain area - a tactic you are already using. Expanding that area should work, and then you can mask it with illusion while you bring your inventions up. If all goes well, you can launch a surprise attack on the Risen."

"And to further mask the location of the entrance, I can portal people to another location in the room," Fiona notes.

"That sounds exciting!" Sieran declares. "When can we start?"

"Right now!" Gixx declares. "Sieran, can you find Scholar Granger for me?"

"Of course!" Sieran beams.

Tiffany glances at Fiona. '_Scholar Granger?_' she wonders amusedly.

* * *

Ah, look. More Risen. Forgal is sick and tired of all. These. Risen! His blade whistles through the air, cutting the heads off two Risen while the fire-wielding asura at his side burns the bodies - both dead and unliving. So many Vigil had died over the last day or so, it isn't even funny. To use a turn of phrase that should never be uttered in conjunction with dead allies.

The worst part is, he isn't seeing too many new Risen. There aren't enough people that use fire - either elementalists or guardians or even flame turrets from engineers - to keep the Risen from rising again. And he is seeing a lot of familiar faces in Vigil armor among the undead. Zhaitan isn't even expending its own forces, just throwing dead allies at him. The fact that there are this many undead Vigil is sobering. At least he knows they didn't go down without a fight.

Well, Bear take him if he joins them! Forgal scowls at the hordes of Risen. The truly aggravating part is how many Priory and Whispers bodies are among the enemy. They _didn't_ take down ten Risen with them. They probably died screaming in terror and running around like headless chickens. They fed Zhaitan's army. Who knows how many Vigil deaths or kills had been negated through the other Orders' foolish arrogance?

The Vigil Keep is half the cause of everybody's exhaustion. The Vigil Keep is where all their tools and supplies are, and Fort Marriner just isn't equipped to deal with a full-scale invasion like this. A lot of good soldiers were lost at the Keep, as well.

How the Risen got past Lion's Arch is debatable, but Forgal is sure that the Risen are beginning to move on the surrounding villages by the Keep. Of which there are a lot, because everybody knows the Vigil protect the innocent.

If the Vigil don't retake the Keep soon, even more devastation will happen. Already, Lion's Arch has been thoroughly evacuated of civilians. It's a war zone, with no prone bodies in sight. The dragon's champions are so close that the dead rise again almost as soon as they die.

It had been a long day. Forgal is spent. So are most of the other soldiers, Lionguard included.

Forgal is not happy about this state of affairs. The Vigil need the Keep back, and soon. The supplies there - portable siege engines, a whole store of elixirs of all kinds, a secure place for the injured to be treated - not to mention the morale boost that having the Keep back would provide, could turn the tide of the battle.

And until the tide is turned, Destiny's Edge can't utilize whatever plan they come up with for the champions. _If_ they come up with a plan. That's starting to look debatable - Forgal was there when they took down Blightghast, and he is sure that tactic can't be used again. Not with the huge golem all bashed up. And that golem might have been the biggest firepower on the team… not much, really, when it was a mostly aerial battle. At least they had Glint on their side when they fought Kralkatorrik!

But, hey, Destiny's Edge. Maybe they will come up with a plan - everyone said the champions couldn't be defeated, and they did it. Maybe they'll do this impossible task. The Vigil's job is to keep the Risen out of the city, and for that, they need the Keep.

When the tide of Risen stems to a trickle, Forgal heads for Fort Marriner to talk to General Almorra. Hopefully this can be completed before nightfall, which isn't far away.

* * *

"Lightbringer Vriré, present," Vriré informs Preceptor Doern softly. The Preceptor nods, finishes giving directions to a team of Agents, and turns to her.

"Know what cannot be known," he greets her.

"And find what cannot be found," Vriré replies. The Whispers greeting has its own benefits - such as giving her an inkling of what her assignment is to be. "What do you wish me to find, Preceptor?"

"Yes. You have little natural magic, correct?" Doern checks.

"Affirmative," Vriré replies promptly. "What I do have takes the form of adrenaline and energy."

"Good," Doern nods. "Ah, here he is."

Vriré doesn't look back to see who it is. Doern will tell her if she needs to know now. And while Vriré's natural curiosity is unbounded, a great deal of patience mutes it so that nobody could ever tell.

"Trahearne is a necromancer," Doern tells her unnecessarily. "He has agreed to provide you with cover while you scout out Claw Island. You will be safe. Bring me information on the numbers of Risen, how powerful they are, and their behavior. Have the recent attacks dented their army at all? Do the losses on our side outnumber theirs? Are they planning an attack soon? Are there any weaknesses in their defenses, if there are any at all?"

"Understood, Preceptor," Vriré replies. "I will collect this information."

Doern nods. "Good. Speak together for a minute while I arrange transportation."

Vriré turns to the sylvari at last, looking up at him. "How does this 'cover' work?" she asks.

Trahearne frowns. "I will surround you with the Aspect of Renewal, deceiving the Risen into thinking you are undead. You do have a little magic of your own, right?"

"A little," Vriré replies, frowning. Koraw had never tried this trick, but then, there has to be a reason Trahearne is aiding her on this mission, and not another member of the Order. "Not any particular Aspect, as far as I know. Why?"

"If you didn't, there would be a very good chance that the magic would saturate you, which I am not sure is wise for somebody who does not already wield Renewal," Trahearne explains.

Vriré furrows her forehead. "I see. And you are coming with me to Claw Island?"

"Yes," Trahearne confirms.

Vriré nods decisively. "Good. Let's do this, then." She inhales sharply in surprise as she feels Renewal settle on to her skin, an aura of cold… energy… coating her. She is not sure how she knows it is energy. She feels no more energetic herself - the feeling remains outside of her - and yet she _knows,_ somehow. She can feel her natural magic - what little there is - swell inside her, keeping Renewal from penetrating deeper. She is not at all sure how that works - she'd never felt her magic before, for one thing, unless in the heat of battle - and she is no scholar of magic, either. "That is an… interesting effect."

A blue aura heralds Preceptor Doern's return. "The boat is ready," he tells them. "Agent Shipscar has gutted his crew, and is taking only the Whispers members along. Trahearne, I believe you can clear the dock of Risen if necessary?"

"I can," Trahearne agrees.

"We'll set out immediately," Vriré tells the Preceptor.

"Excellent."

Vriré and Trahearne head toward the boat.

"The Risen are most active at night," Trahearne tells her, "which is why we are being sent out at this time of night. We will be able to see what they are getting up to more easily."

"But we'll stay away from the champions, right?" Vriré asks. "Or does your enchantment work on them, as well?"

"I'm afraid they are much more perceptive than the mindless minions," Trahearne replies. "But they also have no need to be with the Risen to give them commands, so we should be able to view their efforts without risk."

Vriré nods. This is important - the Order had been flying blind without the status of Claw Island.

* * *

They dock at Claw Island without much trouble, and then the ship ghosts away to await their signal. The two Renewal-cloaked figures head into the courtyard, where the Risen are in abundance. Risen are everywhere else on the island, too. In the fort that had held the force guarding against Risen for centuries, on the beach where many Lionguard had fallen to keep them back, infesting the waters that Claw Island had kept clear for generations. The three spires that signal defeat to Lion's Arch have been put out, and a dragon wheels above the fortress, keeping an eye on the Risen below.

Vriré shifts into a shadow - of which there are many - to escape its prying eyes. "This disaster must stop," Vriré fumes.

Trahearne nods, his face hard. "The corruption is already settling into the land here. Three champions exuding so much of Zhaitan's power and carrying its will… this place will be like Orr before long. We cannot let that happen."

This place… like Orr? And that possibility goes for Lion's Arch, too, if it falls. That would most certainly be a disaster. Vriré and Trahearne move to a place where they can more easily see what the Risen are doing, at the same time as being more obscured from the flying champion's view.

"Where are the other champions?" Vriré asks in a low voice.

"I don't know," Trahearne replies, just as quietly. "The one we can see is Horrogos the Soulbreaker. We must be on our guard."

Vriré scans the courtyard from their higher position, and wishes she'd brought a bomb. Pitching it in that roiling mass of Risen would most certainly dent the army… but then they'd just rise again, and her presence would be revealed. The Risen don't seem to be doing anything in particular, but she highly doubts this counts as 'dented.' The champions probably don't care about the burned bodies in Lion's Arch in the least.

The whole island is covered in Risen, like a disturbed anthill, as is the water around it. No weapon the Order has could kill the Risen at the same time as reducing them to something that cannot rise again. They'd have to blow up the whole island, and preparing that could take days, even weeks.

Even if they used Trahearne's method to get Agents in and kill the Risen, that still leaves the champions. And from the way her magic reacts to Trahearne's, she is sure anyone with stronger magic would completely resist the effect.

In summary, Vriré cannot think of any method of clearing out this hellhole of dragonspawn. Even defeating the champions wouldn't do it - the minions would still be here, and they'd just swarm and attack. They're just smarter around the champions, but they're still rampaging beasts.

A dragon rises out of the water, massive wings flapping in huge strokes. Vriré presses herself further into the shadow she'd chosen. It soars into the air, circles once around the island, and lands in the courtyard. It spreads its wings and shrieks a terrible cry. Risen swarm toward it, and the monstrosity lifts into the air, flying toward Lion's Arch.

"We - " Vriré hisses, but Trahearne clamps a hand on her mouth and shakes his head. Vriré gets the message and nods. He removes his hand and points at the dragon - Horrogos - above them, which had circled lower upon the appearance of the other.

The other dragon flies back, and Vriré releases the breath she'd been holding. It had only been escorting the Risen, not leading a charge on the city.

It does strike home how embarrassingly easy it would be to take the city right now. All these Risen at once, led by even one champion, would overrun any defense within a tick of her sundial.

Lion's Arch or Claw Island will be taken by one side or the other… but that battle is coming soon. Too soon.

Time is running out.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

So, this chapter didn't cover much plot-wise, but it included that bit about how the Aspect of Nature is really the Domain of Nature, something I've been itching to explain somehow for _forever_.

It captured the war-zone-y-ness (writer's disclaimer: that is _not_ a word) of Lion's Arch, showed how many people are dying (hopefully) and showed off some of the benefits of the new Dream-bond-thing (which is also not a word but more acceptable than the other one).


	15. Chapter 15: Plans for the Pact

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: The Vigil can't fight the Risen. The Order of Whispers is at a loss for what to do next. The Priory are afraid to try anything after the crushing siege. Tiffany is paralyzed with doubt about suggesting the Pact. Fiona steps up to the challenge after an interesting talk with Ogden Stonehealer, and the Pact falls together as if drawn by fate. Before much can be done beyond notifying Destiny's Edge that they have capable backup, the dragon champions arrive. Leon and the dredge blast it with sonic, and the Vigil and a few helpers battle Risen around Lion's Arch, but nothing much is achieved until Destiny's Edge start killing the champions, one by one. Afterward, Tiffany runs into an irritated asura and a hilarious Risen.

* * *

Chapter fifteen: Plans for the Pact

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Heyy! Guess what! It's the 25th of May! That means that it's the one-year anniversary of the beginning of the _Tassof Series_! Go check the publish date on _Tyria's Real!?_

As a reward for this event, you get a super-duper long chapter! It's actually pretty much two chapters stuck together, written in the time-span of one. So say thank you!

Also, this is chapter 80 of the whole series! YAY!

_**Okay here's the story now:**_

* * *

On Sunday, a delegation of Vigil troops, led by Warmaster Forgal Kernsson, heads for the Vigilant Hills to retake the Vigil Keep.

Forgal had convinced General Almorra to spare some Vigil troops for this effort, but he is not at all sure he'll be able to retake the Keep. The place is covered in Risen, and if he didn't know better, he would be tempted to ask how quickly they reproduced.

But the Vigil have something the Risen don't - tactics and home terrain superiority.

The Risen are everywhere within the Keep, but they also are moving outward to the countryside. The Vigil don't have much time.

Forgal decides to take the siege weapons first, because there are a bunch of Risen in the courtyard. So he gives orders to his men, and they charge up the ramp that leads to the ramparts of the Keep.

The Risen counter them, of course, and the Vigil start fighting their way through. Unluckily enough, there are no flame wielders in Forgal's delegation, but they are needed in Lion's Arch, and he doubts there is a champion capable of resurrecting here. Only those taken by Risen weapons or magic will rise again.

Forgal cuts through the Risen, cutting off heads and limbs and trying to be thorough enough that they don't jump on him from behind. The other soldiers help with that, but it is best to stay in the habit.

The Vigil make good headway, but the Risen here are powerful and tough and have magic of their own. Forgal doesn't know how powerful the magic of the bone wall is, but it certainly isn't going to be broken through by the Vigil. And meanwhile, the Risen have their own Risen siege towers, which are mercilessly pelting the Vigil delegation.

"Retreat!" Forgal hollers, focusing to waypoint.

Nothing happens.

"Raven's wings, they've got this place shielded," Forgal curses. "Retreat!" he shouts again.

Others take up the cry, and the Vigil retreat, leaving the Risen victorious.

* * *

"We need to either retreat and let Lion's Arch fall while employing our usual methods, or we need to hold them off until we have a weapon that can blow up Claw Island," Vriré reports. "It's crawling with Risen - they're absolutely everywhere. In the courtyard, on the beach, infesting the water, and at any time a wave of the undead could arrive with a dragon champion leading it. Trahearne says Claw Island will become like Orr soon - dead and desolate. No force could punch through what I saw - not even the Vigil. They're too spread out for a localized bomb to do anything - we'd have to blow up the island - and nothing we have can destroy them to the point of not rising again."

Preceptor Doern frowns. "Did you see the wave of Risen depart?"

"Yes, they were led by one of the champions," Vriré nods. "The champion returned without being seen, I think, but the possibility of it going in with the rest is too great. We don't have the time to prepare Lion's Arch to retaliate."

* * *

Sieran is talking anxiously with Gixx. "We can't fight the Risen, Gixx! We have the knowledge - we know _how_ \- but we can't fight them! We were almost wiped out by those Risen, if Trahearne and Tiffany hadn't come - "

"I know, I know," Gixx mutters, pacing. "We can't let that happen again. The Risen already trashed our upper floors in that time! We're vulnerable, Sieran! We don't have - we don't have anything except the how. What can we do?"

"I… don't know, Gixx. We were trapped here for hours… I don't know." What Sieran isn't saying is that she'd watched Fiona sleeping or meditating for six or so hours, and found herself admiring the courage in her young friend. The courage, the dedication, the open-mindedness. Sieran would never have been able to work with the dredge, much less convince them to join the Durmand Priory. Fiona is a lot of the things Sieran is - bright, happy, cheerful - but she also knows when to get serious, when to drop a grudge, how to care for the people she loves.

Sieran isn't like that. But… she wants to be. She'd always been optimistic and hopeful, but this recent siege had shaken her badly and made her question her beliefs.

She just hopes she'll have time. The Priory can't fight the Risen.

* * *

"Our biggest problem is not being able to get the champions out of the sky," Eir tells Destiny's Edge. "With Big Zojja's grappling hooks, that was easy, but now she's smashed, and the Orders can't keep the Risen at bay long enough to repair her. We don't have many long-range weapons, so we're at a disadvantage here."

"We need to be in melee range," Rytlock says, summing up their problem. "Would it help if we were on the dragon's backs and just hacked at its skull? I'm sure… decomposing Risen material is flammable... right?"

"They have to come down to harm us," Caithe points out. "When they do that, we harm them. When they fly, Eir shoots."

"There's three of them, though," Logan points out. "We can't deal with three of them. And don't they spit poison?"

"Logan, does your shield work both ways?" Eir asks. "If we could trap a foot or wing in it, we could - "

"No," Logan says, shaking his head. "That would work, except for the part that it's absolute. Nothing goes in or out, and I can't trap the whole dragon inside. At best it would cut off the foot, but the Aspect of Protection doesn't do that sort of thing very well, and I can do it even less."

"Zojja, do you have any snare thing? Could you use the grappling hooks without Big Zojja?"

"Theoretically, yes," Zojja replies. "But only Big Zojja is heavy and sturdy enough to resist being pulled all over the island or even up in the sky. Anything I did to anchor it in the fortress could just be ripped out - it's not like I'm welding, and you can't weld stone anyway. For being decomposing flesh sewn together, Risen dragons are very strong."

"And don't forget the other Risen," Caithe warns. "We won't be working with just the dragons like when we did Blightghast."

"The Risen are easy, just beat 'em up," Rytlock points out. "Or Logan's shield can keep them out. Our focus is the three dragons."

"If there were just one of them, even without Big Zojja we could whittle it down," Logan frowns.

"Unless it whittled us down first," Eir notes. "But with three, we'd have to have a way to distract the other two to nonlethal pursuits for a long time. Which we do not."

"I've been tracking down Kudu's research and experiments with dragon energy," Zojja informs them. "If we had the time, I could finish that and build a weapon, but it would be more sure to just rebuild Big Zojja. Possibly less time-consuming, too."

Eir sighs. "Maybe I'll think better if I get some sleep."

Caithe blinks. "You haven't slept since Tiffany told us about the problem!"

"That was Friday," Logan notes. "Get some sleep, Eir. We'll brainstorm."

At Garm's mental urging, Eir sighs. "Alright. Thanks, team."

Rytlock huffs. "Even the greatest warrior can't go without sleep, Eir. We'll hold down the fort."

* * *

Tiffany is fighting Risen. More Risen, come to Lion's Arch. Really, really annoying Risen. She cuts one's head off with an axe, and ten seconds later it is up again. Tiffany hacks it arms off, but then it jumps on her and tries to knock her down while the other Risen close in on her.

Annoyed, Tiffany cuts its legs out from under it, heaves it off of her, and stomps on its chest. She wonders if she should put daggers in the soles of her boots or something, so she can kick lethally. This idea appeals to her, and she files the idea away in the back of her mind for later reference. _As if that will work,_ she tells herself in amusement. _I'll never remember._

The Risen won't give up yet, and its limbs are still flailing around. _It just doesn't know that it's dead yet_, Tiffany tells herself. _Oh wait…_

Killing Risen is never boring, but it is repetitive. They do technically 'die' if you bash them on the head, but they get right back up again after just long enough that you'd think it was dead, making it very dangerous to fight more than one at a time if you think the other one is dead.

There aren't nearly as many Vigil soldiers right now, because most of them are off trying to reclaim the Vigil Keep. Many of the Vigil have died in this onslaught, and Tiffany doesn't like it one bit. The Vigil are like a second family to her - a group of people who believe what she believes about protecting people. And they are dying because nobody has struck back against the Risen yet.

There are comparatively few Vigil fighting the Risen, the Priory is still shaken from the whole 'captured under their own base' ordeal, and the Order of Whispers - well, who knows. Those who can fight, must, and Tiffany is playing as a Vigil Warmaster today, and feeling the part.

She feels more like a Warmaster when is using her two blades. Probably because Warmasters, in her clichéd mind, are melee-range whirlwinds that decimate everything in their path and look good doing it. People who shoot one arrow at a time at the enemy from behind a bunch of other soldiers don't count as Warmasters, but her opinion of Warmaster has been slowly changing.

She's a Whispers Warmaster. That means she shoots for a while and either looks pathetic or skillfully snipes off the enemy with a single shot. If she looks pathetic, the bad guy gets close and underestimates her, and she sweeps out her axes and decimates him.

And that's by herself. With Beorn, she's a whole 'nother story. With Beorn, she is a real Warmaster. She shoots while Beorn distracts the bad guy. She can kill anything in only a few shots like that.

And, she supposes, Warmasters are war machines, not handsome, blood-streaked and wounded patriotic heroes. Well, that too, but mostly they just kill the enemies and don't get hurt.

The problem is that there just aren't enough Warmasters.

So, right now, Tiffany has to be twice as epically Warmaster as normal. That doesn't bother Tiffany at all. In fact, she is just absolutely happy right now. Well, she would be, if she wasn't worrying about the Pact.

Now seems like the best time to suggest it, but… well… Tiffany doesn't know why she's hesitating. The concept of the Pact is ready. The Orders are in shambles - she doubts the force Almorra sent with Forgal can retake the Keep, the Priory are very aware of their vulnerability, and the Order of Whispers just isn't equipped to fight this.

But Tiffany is scared. What if she messes up? What if they all laugh at her and absolutely reject the idea? What if the suggestion makes them _less_ likely to cooperate? What if Trahearne doesn't want to lead the Pact? What if she sounds foolish and stupid and like she doesn't know what she's doing? She doesn't remember what she'd said to convince them last time around, and while the current circumstances are reason enough, she just doesn't know if she can do it.

She'd been waiting for the Pact to just 'happen' - and it has 'happened,' at least as much as it can, without the right push at the right time. She gets the feeling she should've suggested it yesterday, when she and Trahearne rescued the Priory. She should've suggested it even earlier, when they lost the Vigil Keep to begin with. She should've suggested it any time in between, as she watched Vigil fall to the Risen and rise again to aid them.

And she can't, because she's too worried she might fail.

Just like she'd failed with Deborah. All her future knowledge, all her planning to stop Forgal from dying... and somebody _else_ died. Somebody who was - arguably - closer to her than Forgal is! What if she fouls up again? What if Forgal does die? What if _Fiona_ dies? What if Trahearne dies? What if anyone, anybody at all, dies because she'd planned for what she knew was going to happen?

Oh, so _this_ is what fear of failure feels like. "Just try it, get it over with, what'll happen will happen and you can try again later" is the advice she normally gives to people who are afraid of this. Only, that doesn't really apply to her situation. Does it?

Aren't people _already_ dying for her hesitancy?

* * *

Fiona is useless right now as a Magister of the Durmand Priory. All the Priory people are uncertain and looking over their shoulders. They don't know where to turn. They feel as if everything the Vigil and the Order of Whispers had ever said about them is true. They're useless, they can't fight, they'll never be effective against the dragons, yada yada yada.

She'd gone to Vriré for something to do, but Vriré didn't know what to do either - a state Fiona had never seen her in before. Vriré, uncertain? But uncertain she was. Vriré had waved her off, saying something about 'waiting' and 'no time left' and 'incapable' while wringing her hands and staring at the sky. When Fiona had asked what she was doing, she snapped "thinking!" and told Fiona to leave her alone.

So Fiona had gone back to the Durmand Priory, wondering if there was something she could help with, and worrying about Tiffany's hesitancy regarding the formation of the Pact. Wondering about a lot of things, in fact.

* * *

"Ah, there you are," comes the gravelly voice of Ogden. Fiona looks up to see that she'd absentmindedly wandered down the lower levels of the Priory. Ogden is standing in a doorway. "I wanted to speak to you about that offer I made yesterday regarding teaching you magic."

"Yeah, about that…" Fiona says slowly. She would really like to learn that, but her duty to Tiffany… "I kind of have a prior obligation."

"You don't seem happy about it," Ogden notes bluntly.

"I…" suddenly, Fiona finds herself telling him everything. Her new connection to the Dream, her prior hopes and dreams about making a name for herself outside of her sister's shadow, and her fresher disappointment at not being able to learn about magic.

She stops herself before she says any more, and after a moment of thought, Ogden speaks.

"Lass, I'd say trust yourself," Ogden says seriously. "I've not studied this Dream or the whole sylvari existence thing much, but I'll say this - what belongs to sylvari stays with sylvari, and it doesn't need to bother you with their Wyld Hunts. If it's not something you feel you should do, don't do it."

"But that's the problem," Fiona says sadly, wondering how to explain this to somebody who doesn't know their secrets. "I do need to support Tiffany. She's my only anchor. She's the only one who can understand me, outside of the Dream. She… I don't know how to explain it."

"And you can't trust her to protect herself?" Ogden asks pointedly.

"She's most vulnerable from the inside," Fiona explains. "I didn't realize it before, but she needs me to support her emotionally. She's my sister, I can't just look out for myself - especially not when she's hardly looking out for _her_self. She's more worried about - " Fiona stops herself before she mentions the secrets that she and her sister had carefully kept.

Ogden remains silent, patiently waiting for her to continue.

Fiona realizes that if she were to tell anybody her secrets, it would be Ogden. He can keep her secrets, she knows, and she gets the feeling he will if she asks him to. And he is also the sort of person who can help her. And he probably won't react. He's a literal rock.

So she tells him about knowing the future, and about being from another world, and about the game and how she knows the future. All of it. She feels uneasy about it in that she hadn't discussed it with Tiffany beforehand, but… she also doesn't want Tiffany to know. That makes her even more uneasy. Tiffany should know - this is their shared secret. But also, the things Fiona needs to talk about with somebody are _about_ Tiffany, and therefore, she can't talk to Tiffany about them, and telling Tiffany that she wants to talk to somebody else about her would just be weird. And if she tells Tiffany _now_…

But that seed of uncertainty and uneasiness remains. Fiona doesn't like keeping secrets from Tiffany, particularly ones of this level of magnitude.

"… Tiffany needs me," she finishes. "I'm worried about her. She depends too much on her future knowledge, and when she forgets something she gets scared and hides inside herself. We can stop the devastation going on in Lion's Arch, but she's afraid. She knows what's happening, the death, and she doesn't like it, but she's more afraid of the Pact not happening."

Ogden remains silent, as if thinking. Fiona doesn't blame him. She'd just told him she knows the future - or a version of it, anyway.

"Knowing the future is a hard thing," Ogden says at last. "Your sister is handling it admirably, in my opinion. You, on the other hand, are in a unique position. You know the future without ever having had a role in it. You are new, you are a factor in Tyria that was never considered in this game of yours. And you are unchanged for knowing the future. Tiffany has obviously been changed, scarred, and now invested in it through the Dream. I daresay if you stepped out of your 'sister's shadow' as you wish to do, you would change the world wildly."

"Really?" Fiona had never thought of this before.

Ogden nods seriously. "And I think you can change the world even within your 'sister's shadow,' if that is where you have decided to remain. You are making the difference between 'sidekick' and 'supporter' seem negligible. It is not. Your purpose seems to be to help Tiffany through these moments of fear and uncertainty. You are to support Tiffany? Then you do what she cannot in the pursuit of _her_ goal and purpose. And maybe - just maybe - you can be your own person while still assisting her. As you have no doubt seen before, by no means is the future set in stone."

Fiona nods slowly. "Thank you, Magister Stonehealer. You have given me a lot to think about."

"That's my job, isn't it?" Ogden asks rhetorically. "Even given your decision not to learn about the nature of magic, I'll still consider you my student. Ever read a good book?"

Fiona blinks at the sudden change in topic. "Yeah?"

"Give me an example - it can be from your world, just give me an example."

"Um, the Harry Potter series?"

"Great. Now, I'm guessing the main character is this Harry Potter fellow? That sounds like a name."

"Yes," Fiona confirms.

"Even better. I'm guessing he had a best friend to get him unstuck of messy situations?"

"Yes. Two, actually." Fiona wonders where Ogden is going with this.

"And he had an older person to give him advice?"

"Yes," Fiona replies. "I'd say Dumbledore."

"Well," Ogden nods, "I think maybe you are Tiffany's best friend."

That, of course, given that the example is the Harry Potter series, makes Fiona realize that she would be playing Hermione. Because, you know, Priory. And Ron wasn't much of a 'support' type either.

"And maybe," Ogden adds as an afterthought, "when all this mess is over with - checking you can actually kill the dragons - I'll write a good book - or maybe a long series - about you and Tiffany, and I'll be the wise old mentor person who gives advice. That does mean I have to act the part, though, so be sure and ask me for help if you need it." Ogden's voice has a note of humor in it, and his coal-black eyes are twinkling.

Fiona smiles. "I'd be glad to. I don't have anybody else to talk to about it all."

"I get lonely down here - well, on normal occasions, when there aren't Risen knocking on an illusion over our heads - so be sure you do," Ogden warns. "Now, get off and do your thinking - advice does no good if it's not thought about."

* * *

Fiona is helping Scholar Josir enchant more of the Mortis Verge devices - a task that is not very mentally engaging - and thinking about her conversation with Ogden when Sieran comes to find her. She seems anxious, so Fiona goes with Sieran to a quiet corner and sets up a sound barrier.

"Fiona, have you talked with Tiffany? She always has a bunch of good ideas and… well, the Priory just can't handle all these Risen. We can't help at all. It's very risky sending anyone in with the Mortis Verge, so we can't use it very well even if we do get a bunch of them completed. I… the Priory can't fight the Risen, Fiona. You know this, right?"

"When did you get so mature?" Fiona asks before she can stop herself.

Sieran pauses for a moment. "Now isn't the time," she says quietly. "The Risen are going to win at Lion's Arch, Fiona. Please tell me you, or Tiffany, or Trahearne - or anybody - can help?"

Fiona knows Tiffany has been hesitant to mention the Pact yet, but Fiona has no such qualms. She'd never played this far, and so doesn't have anything but Tiffany's ramblings to cloud her common sense. Ogden's words - about doing what Tiffany cannot do - come to mind.

"Yes," she tells Sieran. "Yes. Take me to Gixx."

Sieran nods worriedly. "He's - come on."

* * *

Gixx, as it turns out, is doing much the same thing as Vriré was doing. Maybe it's an asura thing, or maybe its a thing responsible people do when they don't know what else to do.

"Ah, Sieran, Fiona, there you are. Fiona, please tell me you have some idea on how to solve this discombobulated disaster!"

"I do," Fiona says. "I think it's clear to all of us that the Priory is in no condition to be fighting the Elder Dragons. We know how, but we don't possess the capabilities to actually do it. But the Vigil and the Order of Whispers do."

"What are you saying?" Gixx asks cautiously.

"I'm saying we should ally with them, make an alliance, a.. pact," Fiona says. "The Vigil can fight dragons and minions and champions. They can fight anything. The Order of Whispers can get our weapons close and effective. The Order of Whispers can help us come up with new and better weapons. And the Priory can provide them with the how. We have all this knowledge, but we can't use it. They can."

"That's brilliant!" Sieran breathes. "Fiona, you're a genius!" She scoops Fiona up into a hug, then steps back and dances a step or two.

Fiona half expects Gixx to reply, 'and I'm not?' because he's an asura, but he doesn't. He says something similar, though.

"But they're all idiots," Gixx protests.

"Are not," Fiona counters. "Is Tiffany an idiot? And even if they are, who cares? They need intelligence, we need strength. If we ally with them, we all get both. Both are needed, you know."

Gixx doesn't say anything. He remains silent, thinking. After a moment, he nods. "Yes. Yes, we can do that. Can you arrange a meeting with the others? General Almorra and... er... whoever handles such things in the Order of Whispers?"

Fiona nods. "I can. Where?"

"Lion's Arch. Best to do it in a neutral place, and that's ground zero of the reason why we're doing this… the Mystic Forge will do. As for when… well, they are more busy than I am at the moment."

"I'll get right on it," Fiona replies. "Sieran, you wanna come?"

Sieran pauses for a moment - since when had Sieran hesitated about anything? - then shakes her head. "I can do more here, and you've got a Vigil sister," she points out. "It's not like it's dangerous or anything."

Fiona smiles. "Alright. You help out with the Mortis Verge devices. If all goes well, we have soldiers to take them into battle."

Sieran beams. "Go do your thing, I'm sure it'll be cherry."

Fiona smiles. She is sure of that, too - mostly because it had happened in the future, but, so what? Well, first things first - find Tiffany and, hopefully, Trahearne as well.

* * *

She waypoints to Lion's Arch and finds Tiffany and Trahearne by the harbor.

"Hey, uh, Tiffany?" Fiona says as she approaches.

"Yeah?" Tiffany asks, turning toward her.

"I…" Fiona realizes suddenly that Tiffany might not be too happy about the fact that Fiona got the ball rolling by herself, but she had to. Tiffany needs the support. "Gixx wants to set up a meeting of the three Orders in Lion's Arch to talk about an alliance."

"He thought that up by himself?" Tiffany asks in surprise.

"Eh, he asked me if I had any ideas," Fiona says slowly. "And I thought about what we saw in the Dream and thought it was worth a try."

Tiffany sighs in a mix of worry and exasperation. "We'll talk about this later, but for now, let's get this show on the road. I'll speak to General Almorra."

Fiona nods. "I was going to talk to Vriré and see who she brings me to."

"I'll go with you," Trahearne tells Fiona.

Fiona nods. "Great. Uh, Tiffany, tell General Almorra to come to the Mystic Forge."

"Got it," Tiffany replies. "Let's get this Pact on the road!"

Fiona grins. She feels awesome. She suddenly realizes that the Dream had hit her spot-on with her Wyld Hunt. She might have to sacrifice some things, but isn't Tiffany worth it?

* * *

Multi-Order alliance? Check.

The Orders not trusting each other in the slightest? Check.

The Orders needing somebody to get them back on track? Check.

Needing a new angle from which to work the Orr problem? Check.

On-the-spot offer from a good friend of his? Check.

Alright, looks like army-leader Trahearne is happening.

'_What has the Dream got me into?_'

It had started out simply…

* * *

Trahearne goes with Fiona to find Vriré.

"Vriré," Fiona says, getting straight to the point. "Steward Gixx wants to meet with one of the higher-ups of the Order of Whispers to form a three-way alliance with the Vigil."

Vriré looks shocked, but she doesn't comment. "Follow me," she replies.

"Preceptor," Vriré tells Preceptor Doern, who is in the middle of speaking to a human Agent, "Lightbringer Vriré, Trahearne and Magister Fiona of the Durmand Priory, present."

Doern nods once, but doesn't turn in her direction. He is speaking to someone else. "…need them here shortly. Their weapons might help - bring as many as you can. Agent Zott can hack the waypoint network if the gate isn't up yet."

"Understood, Preceptor," the man says, saluting, before waypointing out.

"Lightbringer Vriré?" Doern invites.

"Magister Fiona of the Durmand Priory is extending an offer on behalf of Steward Gixx to form an alliance," Vriré says promptly.

Preceptor Doern sighs. "Agent Fiona Tassof?" he asks, seemingly having recognized her red aura.

"Yes. I'm acting in my Priory role right now, though," Fiona informs him. "Steward Gixx doesn't think the Priory can handle the Elder Dragons alone. He wants to form an alliance with the Order of Whispers and the Vigil."

Doern stays silent for a moment.

"If I may," Vriré speaks up after a minute. "The Order of Whispers is in much the same situation. We're all aware that the Order can't stand against the force at Claw Island."

"Very well," Doern finally agrees. "We'll meet with them. No guarantees on the result, though."

Fiona nods. "Steward Gixx is flexible on the when, and will meet with you and General Almorra at the Mystic Forge."

"As soon as possible," Doern answers. "I'll be there quickly."

"Thank you," Fiona replies.

"Lightbringer Vriré," Doern says as they turn to leave.

"Yes?" Vriré says, standing at attention.

"Stay with Magister Fiona," is all he says.

"Understood," Vriré replies.

* * *

The three of them are at the Mystic Forge before anybody else, and Fiona had taken off to tell Gixx to come quickly. Vriré had interpreted the order to 'stay with Fiona' in a traditional 'protect the foreign ambassador' manner, and that includes not intruding on the foreign headquarters.

Tiffany shows up with General Almorra, Forgal and Warmaster Efut not long after, and Fiona returns with Gixx and Sieran.

Doern shows up with Valenze and Halvora. Trahearne notes that Riel Darkwater is with them too. The Master of Whispers is going to be in on this.

Trahearne suddenly realizes how influential the Order of Whispers is. There are Whispers auras with every Order's delegation - Fiona of the Durmand Priory, Tiffany of the Vigil.

"So, I see Gixx stumbled out of his library, and all three Preceptors came as well," General Almorra huffs.

General Almorra hardly ever acts like this. She must be worried and stressed out. Trahearne notices Tiffany wince at General Almorra's words.

Gixx snaps back with a hardly less polite, "I was told the Vigil aren't stupid, but it sure seems like it."

"The Order of Whispers needs allies, not bickering fools," Preceptor Halvora snarls at them. "Shut up."

Well, that is uncommon. The Order of Whispers admitting they need help is something Trahearne has never heard of before. But then, he had seen the force at Claw Island, so it is hardly surprising.

"I'll have you know that Vigil will not stand for incapable lumps," General Almorra snaps. "We have better things to be doing than standing around talking. Lion's Arch is in danger!"

Tiffany takes this moment to speak up. "General Almorra, we all know the Vigil can't stand much longer against the Risen. You need the other Orders, and calling them names isn't going to help anything."

"That applies to everyone here," Trahearne adds, glancing at Gixx and Halvora.

General Almorra blinks at Tiffany. "Fine," she snarls. "So long as they can keep civil tongues in their heads."

"My tongue is civil enough when I am not riled by war-hungry idiots," Gixx snaps as if unable to help himself.

"Apparently when 'Steward' is used as a title, it acquires the inverse of its meaning," Halvora sneers. "In my opinion, you are being a mighty contradiction, as it is. Calling for help like the pitiful bookworms you are, then insulting those who come to aid you?"

"Stop bickering," Trahearne snaps finally. "They are not the enemy. Who wants to say that the defenders of Tyria failed their duty to insult each other?"

Trahearne realizes that his meaning could be taken one of two ways - he meant their duty to be defending Tyria, but it could also be taken as their 'duty to insult each other.' Either one gets the point across, really - the one with truth, the other with sarcasm.

The leaders of the Orders seem startled into embarrassed silence by his words, but Preceptor Valenze steps up. "Trahearne is right. The Order cannot fight the Risen. According to one of our trusted Lightbringers - and backed by Trahearne," she nods in his direction, "the force at Claw Island has been estimated at too many for all the Vigil together to deal with, even prior to the assault that has weakened all of us."

"Let me guess," Sieran speaks up. "The biggest problem is the champions, right? The Priory has developed an alchemical solution to weaken them. It hasn't been tested on champions yet, but it effects normal Risen massively and the theory is sound."

"You - what?" Warmaster Efut asks in shock. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Gixx returns. "It should drive the champions out of the sky."

"That doesn't negate them, though," Halvora points out. "Lightbringer, you were there. How would driving the champions out of the sky affect any projected battle?"

Vriré speaks instantly. "Beyond crushing a few dozen Risen each by virtue of no empty space large enough to hold dragon champions, nothing. They still have poison breath, huge claws, the power to resurrect anything dead, not to mention whatever secret weapons Zhaitan has imbued its champions with. They are still dragon champions, just grounded, desperate, and with hundreds of minions waiting to do their bidding."

The mood instantly drops from restrained hope to icy despair again.

"Trahearne," Doern queries after a moment of silence, "how vulnerable are the champions - and Risen in general - to sonic weaponry?"

"Physically, they aren't," Trahearne replies. "But anything sonic enough to be called weaponry would disrupt the connection between the Risen and Zhaitan, or the champions in this case. It won't take out undead communication altogether, but it will do better and warp it."

"And unclear battle communications are any army's worst nightmare," General Almorra breathes.

"How much power is behind the communications in the first place, given that there are three champions on the island?" Forgal asks rhetorically. "Three leaders at once that might not necessarily agree."

A slightly uneasy silence falls as everyone realizes how apt a metaphor that is for the current situation.

"And Destiny's Edge can fight the dragon champions, anyway," Forgal points out after a moment. "Our concern is the minions."

"Let's stop talking tactics and start talking negotiations," Riel suggests. "Steward Gixx, your alchemists may have a good trick if we can devise a way to defeat the champions afterward. General Almorra, the Vigil can fight where neither we nor the Priory can. The Order of Whispers can provide current knowledge on the movements of the enemy - without our scouts, we would have no idea what we were up against. I'm sure if - and that is a very big if - we agree to work together, we will see much more of what we are capable of."

"With unity, many impossible things can be achieved," Fiona quotes. "The Pale Tree said that, and I think she's right."

"I, for one, am in total agreement with this course of action," Gixx says. "Aside from my doubts at how well we can work together given our opposing methods and history, it is our only chance at saving Lion's Arch."

"I'm sensing unusual maturity from you," Halvora points out mildly. Because he is looking for it, Trahearne notes a small hand motion that Riel makes while looking the other way, and Halvora continues, "the Order of Whispers is happy with the projected course if we form an alliance, and will gladly enter this pact."

Sharp, sudden glee spikes through the Dream from Tiffany - the first emotion Trahearne had felt from her through that connection - as General Almorra puts in her own agreement.

"I fear this alliance might not last long," the charr general begins, "but it may well last long enough to see Claw Island rid of the infestation corrupting it. But we need a leader - us three - or whoever - can never hope to work together as smoothly as could be desired."

Trahearne had - by the Pale Tree, how? - forgotten about Claw Island slowly being taken over by Corruption. It makes him realize that how he is working toward his Wyld Hunt is… less effective than he would like. According to the ghost of King Reza, Orr doesn't have much time left.

"Well, it can't be a member of one of our three Orders," Gixx points out. "That makes no sense if we are all to be on equal footing with each other."

Trahearne gets the feeling that the answer lies within the Dream - also probably from the ghost of King Reza. He'll have to look into the Souce Reza had mentioned. Hopefully the corruption on Claw Island will be easier to revoke.

"But who would be interested in this alliance aside from people who are a part of it?" Valenze asks.

But where would he start? The Source? Trahearne had never heard of such a thing before. It would take a very long time to find something like that. He'd have to think more in-depth about it later, after the Claw Island problem is dealt with. That is the most pressing threat.

"For that matter, who could we all trust to take on such a role?" General Almorra reminds them.

Hopefully the Corruption there doesn't take hold. The sooner the champions are gone, the better. At the moment, Claw Island is an incarnation of his worst fear - Corruption spreading from Orr like a plague, affecting places where the living would be affected. Trahearne wonders if this pact will go past Claw Island and on to Orr. They probably will, given that their purposes are to kill Elder Dragons.

"Who would even be capable?" Halvora queries. "None of us know enough about the lay of the land, and Orr is so big - our scouts would need forever to map it out."

King Reza's ghost had also mentioned that it was entirely possible to kill Zhaitan, though it wouldn't save Orr. It would save the rest of the world, though. And if they kill the champions at Claw Island, Zhaitan will just send more troops, elevate more of its powerful minions to 'champion' status, and Claw Island will never be free. On this troubling note, Trahearne tunes back into the conversation in time to hear his own name.

"What about Trahearne? He's not a member of any Order, he knows Orr like nobody else, and… well, he's Trahearne." Tiffany ends it kind of lamely, but everybody gets the point.

Well, it was a good thing he'd started paying attention again before _that_ and he looked like a daydreaming goofball.

"Well, Trahearne?" General Almorra asks. "Will you lead us to defeat the dragon champions, and - if we're lucky - on to the dragon itself?"

Trahearne blinks. Him? Well, Trahearne has to admit that he fits the prerequisites… but him? But he isn't…

"If you make the argument that you're not a general, I'm going to roll my eyes at you," Tiffany threatens, evoking a snort of laughter from Fiona.

'_Yes, I saw it in the Dream too,_' Trahearne thinks in amusement, but he doesn't say it out loud. Yes, the Dream foretold it… - and, apparently, 'high-ranking general' translates into 'supreme leader,' given this alliance - but... lead a union of the Orders? An army? But it is the surest way to stop Corruption from spreading, from perhaps snuffing out the last life Orr has before he can fix it. "I… I never wanted to be a soldier. I try to reverse death, not bring it. But if left alone, Zhaitan and its army of undead will bring more death and destruction than this pact ever could."

"Especially since the Risen are already dead," Fiona notes, to an odd, out of character glare from Tiffany.

Trahearne isn't exactly sure how to reply to this, so he settles with the simplest of replies. "Yes. We can defeat them - it is possible." Hope rises within him. This can work. "We can defeat Zhaitan and its champions. I will lead this pact to the gates of Arah, and together, we will see Zhaitan destroyed. First to Claw Island. Let us send our defiant message straight into the heart of Orr: Tyria stands as one!"

* * *

"Agent Leon, present."

Preceptor Doern turns quickly to him. "Agent Leon, report!" he barks.

"A dredge division is right behind me, Preceptor," Leon reports promptly. "They're eager to prove their willingness to cooperate with the surface dwellers."

"Did you require Agent Zott's talents?"

"No, Preceptor," Leon replies, suppressing a smug smile. "The dredge have extensive tunnels deeper underground."

"Good."

Then, to Leon's intense surprise, Preceptor Doern turns to a nearby sylvari. But before the Preceptor can speak, an asura pipes up.

"It seems our sonic-wielding tactical advantage has arrived, Marshal Trahearne."

"Leon?" comes Fiona's voice, and Leon looks over to see Fiona standing by Sieran and Steward Gixx. "You're a Whispers Agent?"

"_You_ are a Whispers Agent?" Leon retorts in surprise, seeing her aura.

"How did this happen?" Agent Riel asks in amusement.

"I believe they met prior to Agent Leon's initiation," Preceptor Halvora tells them. "But this is off topic. Are the dredge ready for a fight, Agent?"

"They are, Preceptor."

"Have them bring the sonic weaponry to the Claw Island portage dock," the sylvari says. No, wait, that's Trahearne! The expert on Orr! But why is he… Leon frowns, glancing at Preceptor Doern.

"Do as he says," Preceptor Doern tells him. "We'll brief the Order later."

"Understood, Preceptor," Leon says, saluting. He turns and hurries off.

* * *

The dredge tunnel comes up under the Postern Ward, and they are already piling out of it when Leon arrives.

"Your orders, Agent Leon?" Agent Balryvr asks. He and Leon had been working together for some time, and Balryvr had been chosen to lead the dredge division under Leon, as the dredge would be more likely to listen to one of their own.

"We're to bring the sonic weaponry to the Claw Island portage dock," Leon replies. "I'll lead the way."

One of Leon's biggest questions when he'd first gone to Sorrow's Embrace had been how dredge find each other when they're _blind_. Well, the answer is sonic, of course. Tiny, radio-like devices send radio waves at a high frequency - too high to hear, but dredge, who are sensitive to sonic in other ways (or they would've blown out their ears long ago) can feel the vibrations in their skin. Leon had been carrying a transmitter since he'd started working more in-depth with the dredge, even though he can't feel the vibrations himself.

The radio waves bounce back on every surface, and the dredge have become adept at deciphering the distances from how the signal feels. When one signal hits another transmitter, the transmitter 'replies' with a slightly different signal, allowing the dredge to tell the difference between a person and a wall. There are many different types of transmitters, carried by people, attached to weaponry, even used as signs.

Leon heads south toward the Farshore Ward, glancing back now and again to be sure the dredge are following and not falling off anywhere. He never ceases to be amazed by the accuracy of the sonic transmitters.

Leon frowns. They'll have to pass through Fort Marriner to get to the Claw Island portage. He decides that the Vigil must deal with passers-by going to Claw Island all the time, and hopefully won't mind.

It turns out that there aren't that many Vigil in Fort Marriner, anyway. They're probably all throwing themselves at the Risen hoping they get scared and run away.

* * *

Leon accidentally goes past the turnoff point to get to the Claw Island dock, and has to double back past a line of sonic siege-type weaponry.

But then all the transmitters beep in alarm - audibly - in response to something he couldn't hear. Leon glances around nervously and sees a huge black shape hovering over the mouth of the harbor. His mouth goes dry. The transmitters beep again.

That thing is screaming at such a high frequency it isn't audible to human ears! Leon, thinking fast, reaches for his A-Key, which is displaying the expected glaring red light on the side that signals 'dragon energies nearby.'

Hoping with his fingers crossed that somebody is at the Whispers aura block in the center of the city, he flicks his A-Key off, then on again. Off, then on again.

"Balryvr, get those weapons ready!" Leon hisses.

"Understood," Balryvr replies.

While Balryvr gives orders to his fellow dredge, Leon, hoping against hope that whoever is at the block is also an engineer, flashes the 'danger' signal. Off for three seconds, on for three seconds, off for three seconds. Then backwards. On for three seconds, off for three seconds, on for three seconds. Then backwards again. And backwards again.

The dragon, satisfied that its too-high-pitched-to-hear screams are enough, flies forward into the harbor, followed by a fleet of Dead Ships manned by Risen, and - two other dragons.

'_Oh shit biscuits._' Leon sends one more 'DANGER' signal - backwards and backwards again. Then, ever the brave idiot, he pulls out his own sonic rifle - he calls it the Boomstick - takes careful aim at the dragon champion in front, and fires. The rifle emits a high-pitched keening sound as the sonic blast travels at the speed of sound toward a Dead Ship.

Balryvr and the other dredge take this as the signal to fire their own weapons. The heavy sonic artillery have a different sound; a muffled rumble hangs in the air.

"Shit biscuits," he says aloud this time, as, a few seconds after, a Dead Ship turns and heads in their direction. "Focus fire on that ship!" he tells Balryvr.

He fires at the ship, which promptly stops, but continues on. The other sonic weapons fire, and the ship stops and begins to turn, but then continues toward them.

"Oh shit biscuits and peanut butter sandwiches!" Leon snarls. "Don't fire all at once - can you set it up so we're always hitting it?"

"Easily," Balryvr replies. "Do it!" he snaps to his underlings. "Quickly!"

Leon takes aim and shoots more sonic Boomstick at the ship. His sonic blast is followed by a steady stream of more sonic blasts from the dredge. Balryvr has his own sonic rifle out, as well. Leon hopes the constant rumbling, broken by the high-pitched whine of the sonic rifles and the ringing sound of sonic pistols, doesn't damage his ears.

The ship pauses, turns around and heads back to the fleet. It suddenly veers off back toward the mouth of the harbor, then joins the other Dead Ships, then puts on a burst of speed and shoots under the Gangplank Bridge. The sonic weapons track it effortlessly until it disappears from sight.

Leon sends the 'danger' signal again. The ship reappears and the sonic hits it again. It shoots across the harbor toward them, then shudders to a halt, does a one-eighty, and sails at high speed toward the stone pillars that used to hold up the asura gate platform. It crashes in a hail of splinters, Risen swarming out of the wreckage and up toward the Grand Piazza.

Several Vigil appear - a charr, norn, human and asura - and start fighting the Risen.

"Fire on the next Dead Ship," Leon instructs, breathless at the effect his troops are having. "Can you spread it over more than one?"

"Leon, you almost insult us," Balryvr tells him. "You know the number of weapons we have here, and you are also intimately familiar with their recharge rate. We could cover five easily, ten with little difficulty."

"Then do so," Leon replies, eyes sparkling. He sights through the Boomstick and shoots one of the Risen still swarming up toward the Vigil. It stops dead in its tracks, swings its blade at another nearby undead monster, then charges forward with the others.

He shoots it again, and again. Balryvr aids him, and the Risen goes crazy. It swipes the head off the shoulders of another Risen, turns and jumps in the water, swims toward the dragons, turns back and heads toward the dredge, then disappears out of sight in the murky depths of the harbor.

It comes up again by the wreck of the ship it had helped to sail and joins its fellows as Leon and Balryvr resume shooting it. It charges mindlessly at the Vigil and is easily cut down. Leon's next target stops dead and falls to the ground, twitching, for near ten seconds before getting up, running in mad circles and jumping into the water. It swims down, down, down until they lose track of it.

Leon glances around the harbor, wondering where _anybody_ else is to help them fight - the dragons have already destroyed the Gangplank Bridge and are hovering over the ruins.

"Target the dragons, all of them," Leon says desperately, taking aim at the closest one.

All of the ships go crazy. All of them stop dead in their tracks. The dragons let out matching screams - audible, this time. Leon drops the Boomstick and claps his hands over his ears, flinching. Balryvr and the other dredge reel back from their weapons as if physically hit - and, given their sensitivity to sonic, they may well have been.

Leon wishes he was more adept with Deception. His friends need sonic mute more than he does if they are going to keep firing at the dragon champions.

He picks up the Boomstick again, wondering if he can alter it to utilize normal bullets as well as sonic, and channels a spark of Deception through it. He doesn't know how it will affect anything in the long run, but he wraps himself in Deception, canceling all sound or sonic waves in and out of his body.

He shoots again, watching the world go by in eerie silence. The dredge return to their machines, but only half of them have fired when they all stumble back again. Leon feels the shrieks from the dragons push against the Deception surrounding him, trying to break through. He hears a muted ringing sound, dull and faint and far-off.

Deception doesn't like just hiding, it seems. That, or it's because he has trouble getting used to channeling Deception through his rifle. He could use his pistols, but those aren't sonic, and the sonic blasts go a lot farther and seem to have a lot more effect on the dragons.

But, as Leon considers the effect of his pistol - when he shoots a bullet, Deception wraps around it and allows him to shadowstep, as if the bullet were an extension of his pistol-focus - he wonders if, maybe, he can do the same with sonic? If Deception can block sonic, can it work _with_ sonic as well?

Lifing the Boomstick again, Leon focuses Deception through the sonic machinery inside the weapon, and fires at the dragon. He feels the parts of his rifle moving to produce the sonic sound waves, and can feel Deception twined within them as the waves blast toward the dragon.

But Deception becomes unraveled from the sonic waves almost immediately.

Right, Leon is horrible at the audio parts of Deception, that's why his version of Fiona's sound enchantment never does anything more than let him sing without fear of embarrassment. Maybe it's also because the dredge sonic weaponry uses a magic of its own, and it doesn't like Deception.

Well, he and his troops are stuck here, being almost-but-not-quite useless until a proper Deception wielder gets here.

Looking for help, Leon sights through the powerful, Deception-enhanced magnification lens on the Boomstick. As his gaze sweeps over the habor, he sees a line of people. They're too distant to make out, but a muffled report rings out over the water.

That's a non-sonic rifle shot. Leon pulls out a pistol and shoots, focusing visual Deception through the bullet. As he shoots, so do the figures on the far side of the harbor. Leon snaps his eyes closed the moment his bullet leaves the chamber.

When his bullet impacts a Dead Ship, a brief second of motion flashes through his vision. He sees what his bullet would have seen if it had had eyes.

Close up, a bullet from the other team does not hit any Risen, but the bullet isn't a normal bullet. Leon focuses on what he'd seen. It'd been clear and crisp as if he'd been there himself, but only a split second. It wasn't a bullet, it was a bullet-sized capsule of… something. "Shit biscuits," Leon sighs.

That piece of magic - one of the most advanced Leon is capable of - drains him significantly, and he goes back to shooting at the dragon. Hopefully it'll help.

* * *

"Get 'em, get 'em, get em!" Malena hollers.

"Bash 'em, bash 'em, bash 'em!" Braham agrees.

"Burn 'em, burn 'em, burn 'em!" Reistr shouts.

"You know how weird you are?" Tiffany asks.

"It's our own personal battle cry," Malena replies. "Get 'em, bash 'em, burn 'em. We're hoping to turn it into an internationally recognized trademark of us three that go and beat up the Icebrood. If one of us has a kid that likes using a bow we'll teach her to say 'shoot 'em.' And so on, and on."

"That is awesome," Tiffany beams.

Braham doesn't say anything. He still has to have a talk with Tiffany about the whole Eir business. He whacks the Risen in front of him emphatically. It falls down dead and Braham turns to the next one.

"Well, I was sent to make sure you're doing okay," Tiffany tells them, cutting the limbs off a Risen while Beorn bashes in another one's head.

"We're fine," Braham tells her shortly, fighting off the first Risen that had got right back up again. His mace bashes in the torso, but it shambles upright again, despite being a squashed mess. _A mace has got to be the worst weapon in the world for fighting Risen,_ Braham sighs to himself.

"Okay," Tiffany says with a small frown. "See you guys later?"

"Yeah," Reistr nods. "Only won't if you're dead."

"Ah, you're that sure _you_ won't be the dead ones?" Tiffany winks. She waypoints away before Reistr can answer.

Braham and his friends are at Deverol Island, a little thing just off the Farshore Ward. The Dead Ships are the most active in this region, as the sonic dredge weapons are on the other side of Fort Marriner.

The Gangplank Bridge is all but gone, the last of the wooden supports holding up the asura gate platform are burned, the ship that normally sails to Claw Island has been sunk, the docks at the Sanctum Harbor waypoint are burning and Fort Marriner has some holes in it. The Dead Ships had started firing on the fort not long after most of the forces fighting the Risen had deployed.

Their position on the island gives Braham a good view of both harbors. One of the dragons had smashed the outcropping of rock that the Gangplank Bridge had connected to opposite Fort Marriner, and there is hardly any difference between the Inner Harbor and Sanctum Harbor now.

The Lion's Gate lighthouse had been toppled, as well, and the well-known landmark missing is a sign of how desperate things have become. It's just lucky the Lionguard had been able to evacuate all the civilians before this.

As Braham watches, one of the dragons circles above the city, screeching fit to burst eardrums. Its vulnerable position draws shots from everywhere, especially from the relatively safe cover behind the rocky cliff that sits behind the Sanctum Harbor waypoint.

There are many such 'relatively safe' places, such as up in the Western Ward and White Crane Terrace. The Eastern Ward and the rocky cliffs northeast of it might one of the safest places in the city, but not from the flight of the dragons.

The rest of the city is in a bad state from such dragon flights; they breathe a poison gas that does many things, depending on the relative poison immunity or - in the case of the sylvari - their biological construction. It can knock out, kill, weaken, or even choke you to death.

Even worse, however, is the deliberate destruction - acid spit. The whole city is made of wood - mostly retired ships - but the acid eats though rock and cobblestone, as well. The streets are pitted and rough, stone foundations are no longer trustworthy, and, in every quarter of the city, houses and other buildings have their roofs at least destroyed, if not the walls add well.

The dragons hadn't minded the frantic barrage of ammunition before - they weren't hurt by it - but this time, the dragon flaps its wings, thrashing around in the sky, and slowly falls down toward the Grand Piazza, destroying the Lion's Court fountain.

Braham winces. Two landmarks. From what Braham had heard about the locals, they'd mind their memorials more than their houses, but either way, Lion`s Arch will need reconstructing.

The dredge sonic rifles blast, aiming presumably at the downed dragon, and the other two dragons launch into the air, circling and screaming.

The Dead Ships split into two small fleets, one for each dragon, before splitting up again to attack. Well, it'd given the defenders a respite, and the Dead Ships are more sluggish now.

* * *

"Destiny's Edge, attack!" Eir yells, dashing forward with Garm on her heels.

Zojja stays back and blasts the thrashing dragon with lightning, weaving Water, Fire and Air together. After a moment, she drops Water, using it and Air to dry the atmosphere around the dragon. She adds heat to the mixture and makes sure the only movement within the sphere of still, hot air is produced by the dragon or her allies.

She intensifies the heat slowly. She can always hold more power by building up slowly than she can with a flare of it. Part of the destroyed fountain rises up to pin the dragon's wings down. Caithe appears in front of it, and Logan distracts it by stabbing it with his brother's blade. Caithe swiftly takes out both eyes and shadowsteps away.

Several Priory Scholars arrive with more of their alchemy. Using their rifles, they blast the pods containing the weakening solution into the dragon.

Zojja uses Earth to weigh down the rubble keeping the dragon down. Hopefully the combination of alchemy and weight will keep it down long enough for the others to do their job. There is somebody missing, as always. Eir, Garm, Caithe, Logan and Rytlock… somebody is missing.

The heat within the sphere spikes up as Zojja's anger waxes hot against Kralkatorrik. Kralkatorrik had stolen their genius from them, had ended Snaff, had had the audacity to _live_ after all Snaff had risked and given to keep it down.

The dragon's claws flash out, trying to injure something, and desperation brings it to its feet. Sonic from the dredge blasts into it, and it screeches. Caithe carves a deep gash into it's neck, and it flails, trying to bite her.

Rytlock and Logan step up together, slashing the beast's wings to keep it out of the air, and the dragon roars in pain. It pushes itself up and screeches again, poison flying between its long fangs.

Water comes into play, and Zojja lifts an orb of seawater from the harbor. The next time the injured dragon opens its mouth, the orb flies into the gaping maw, choking back any poison breath or screeches. More water from the harbor - probably dirty, who knows what's been in it - is shoved down the dragon's mouth as it tries to breathe.

Earth lifts the fountain's rubble, and Zojja pounds the beast on its head. It chokes, dizzy, and thrashes frantically.

Rytlock buries Sohothin in the dragon's now-exposed chest, allowing Zojja to get inside of it with the Aspect of Fire. Her searing flame roasts the inside of the beast, the flames kept alive by melding with Sohothin, which does not require oxygen to blaze brightly.

Her flames expand in a flash upon hitting the dragon's lungs, which are still full of air, and the dragon is cooked from inside out.

"One down, two to go," Logan notes. He'd been distracting the dragon by repeatedly thrusting his brother's blade into the dragon's side, in a manner calculated to hurt.

Eir and Garm had kept the Risen away, which, Zojja realizes now that she is paying attention, were a very real threat. A wall of Fire leaps up, roasting a line of Risen, and the water next to them clears itself of Risen under her influence.

"Ready for the next one?" Rytlock snarls. "That wasn't nearly satisfying enough."

"As soon as the Priory manage to get one," Zojja returns.

"They won't show themselves after this," one of the Priory warns. "They'll hide for a while."

"Good," Eir says decisively. "We'll help the others fight the Risen. We'll be a magnet after defeating one of the champions like that."

"We should be careful," Caithe warns. "We're surrounded by water here."

"All the better," Zojja tells her. "They'll think we're easy."

"We will be, if Risen come from the north and Dead Ships fire on us from the south," Logan points out.

"Get those sonic weapons to work on any Dead Ships that get near us," Eir says to one of the Priory. "Unless we're not busy and can handle it."

"They might not be able to tell," the Scholar replies. "But I'll tell them."

"Alright. Destiny's Edge will cull the Risen like nothing before," Eir says, hefting the hammer she'd once used against Logan in the arena. Her bow would be of little use in the close-ranged battles they had planned.

Then the Risen come. Zojja's flames dance, reducing many to ash. Others fall to Logan's blade, and Sohothin's flames burn hot. Caithe cuts Risen heads from their bodies, and others are smashed in by Eir's hammer. Garm rips out the throats of many.

All of them meet Zojja's flame, burned before they can rise again. Each and every one is a loss to Zhaitan. Zojja's eyes reflect her Fire as she weaves destruction through the dragon's minions.

The Dead Ships stay away from them, the dragons controlling them realizing that to do so means loss of communication.

Trahearne had been right. Sonic sows discord throughout the ranks of the Risen, commands getting warped and twisted.

* * *

Now, this is true beauty. Tiffany smiles as a Whispers device activates on the beach near Fort Marriner. It pings, mimicking Zhaitan's call.

With the knowledge that Zhaitan and its minions communicate sonically, this machine had been easy for the dredge, working with the Order of Whispers, to adapt from the Priory's original design. A Priory Explorer had been sent out to find a minion not under the control of one of the champions, and then monitor and record the sonic activity in the area. With this information, the device - the Durmand Priory had been working of off vague theories, trying to build such a device but failing because they didn't incorporate sonic - is completed and ready for use.

And altering an existing device to a similar function is always easier than making a whole new one. Adding in the sonic had been laughably easy for Agent Balryvr, somebody that Fiona had greeted enthusiastically. Probably a friend from when she was working in Sorrow's Embrace.

Now it calls to the dragon champions, a mixture of Priory and Whispers information and skill, and hidden under an illusion by a Vigil mesmer.

Caithe had been able to communicate an image of the Elder Dragon to the mesmer by using Deception. Tiffany doesn't understand the details, but Fiona had been very excited about it.

To all eyes, it looks as if Zhaitan is on the beach, flaring its wings. Only the Risen and the champions can feel the mimicry of the call, but it seems to be working.

Both of the dragon champions fly over at high speed, but they circle in the air above the image of Zhaitan in confusion.

"Alchemy," the mesmer curses. "We forgot to block off the _real_ Zhaitan's communication!"

"Shoot them both!" Tiffany hollers to the Priory alchemists on the ramparts of Fort Marriner. "Shoot them both!"

Promptly, the dragons are peppered full of capsules. An engineer had set up hidden turrets around the illusion, and those are now activated. Nets - larger than normal nets - shoot out of the turrets, clamping on with Renewal-altered clinginess to the champions.

Zojja had made short work of transplanting enchanted arrowheads from Eir's arrows to Tiffany's, given that Eir was not going to be using her bow. Now Tiffany raises her own bow and shoots, the arrow sinking in to the dragon.

The arrowhead explodes, not hindering the dragon, but making it angry and distracting it from getting away. Tiffany nocks another arrow and shoots the other dragon. Now they're both focused on her.

Tiffany steps into a portal from the mesmer, popping up across the thin channel to the Farshore Ward. She shoots again, still marveling that she is using Eir's enchanted arrowheads. So much had been said of them in _Edge of Destiny_ that it is rather hard to believe.

The mesmer portals away to get out from under the falling dragons. The dragons flail, looking for her, and more arrows sink in and explode. They flail to the ground, and Destiny's Edge arrive.

Two at once is stretching it, even for Destiny's Edge, so Tiffany continues shooting the champions. Caithe seems to take a great delight in painfully yanking the shafts around in the wounds - maybe she's even using her limited Deception to make it hurt more.

As it is, the dragons are in absolute pain. The Priory alchemists are firing a different, more wounding solution, and the rest of Destiny's Edge focus on one of the champions. Meanwhile the Vigil close around the other, keeping it down but not being very effective at wounding it.

Apparently the champions heal super quickly, and they have the same weird death immunity as the normal Risen. Of course they do. They're just also a ton more dangerous. An exploding arrow lands inside a gaping maw, shocking it back before it can chomp down on a Vigil Crusader. Its claws rake out instead, leaving long parallel gashes in a norn warrior's torso and impaling an asura on the long spikes. Its tail flings around, knocking a dozen soldiers off their feet.

The Dead Ships are coming. The whole fleet of them is sailing toward here as quickly as possible, and the sonic weapons can't reach here from the other side of Fort Marriner. They're covering the harbor in case Zhaitan gets mad and sends more Risen. Tiffany, using normal arrows, snipes off the Risen steering.

Or tries to. The Risen pilots, 'dying' for a moment, get right back up again ten seconds later. There is no way she is going to be effective against Risen with arrows, not unless she uses the special enchanted ones, and those are for the champions. Tiffany wouldn't dare use those on the minions.

Okay, maybe she has a case of hero-worship for Destiny's Edge. Well, who wouldn't? She knows killing Elder Dragons is possible, but that's fact as oppose to the pretty destroyed-looking Lion's Arch, just from some champions. Plus, Destiny's Edge is _awesome_.

Maybe she should've suggested the Pact earlier… so far, this is the asura gates, the lighthouse, the Lion's Court fountain and even Fort Marriner. The Risen had even messed up some memorial or other that had been on the beach of Sanctum Harbor, and the Deverol Gardens are in ruins. Trader's Forum is surrounded by water, and therefore infested with Risen. It is not a good day for Lion's Arch.

More Vigil soldiers, accompanied by Lionguard and a few capable Priory and Whispers close in, line the beach to fight off the Risen that swarm ashore.

Several Dead Ships have left their crews to fight this large force, but suddenly the others veer away, then back, then circle around in desperate confusion.

Tiffany knows it isn't the sonic, but what else would make Risen confused like this? Wait - where had the machine mimicking Zhaitan's call gone? The mesmer had portaled it away with him. It must now be mimicking the champions calls, and the fact that there are at least two of them means that this battle was already confusing enough for the lowly Risen, even before the dredge sonic weapons came in.

Tiffany fires at the champions again. The first one has heavily injured Logan, whom Zojja is standing over weaving Water spells. Sohothin has left many red welts on the champion's snout. Eir's hammer smashes one of its claws, sending bone shards scattering at her feet, and Garm claws at the base of its distracting tail. Caithe has a dagger at the base of its neck, and is holding deathly still. She must be doing some Deceiving. She shouts something to Zojja.

Zojja stops channeling Water and raises her hands toward Caithe and the dragon champion. She must be channeling Air, because Tiffany can't see anything. The dragon seizes up, flailing wildly. Garm is flung aside and Caithe hangs on for dear life. Rytlock tries to reach the champion's head with Sohothin, but it rears back, tail sending the charr tumbling head over heels into the water, where he is promptly assaulted by Risen.

Eir swings her hammer in a large arc, gaining momentum, and lets it go. It sails through the air to thump solidly on its head. The dragon recoils as if slapped (which it kind of was) and Caithe's precarious position fails her and she tumbles off, but Zojja catches her with Air.

The dragon's tail comes around and sends Zojja tumbling - luckily, the asura had moved away from Logan. The enchantment disappears and Caithe falls with a thump to the ground. She doesn't move for several seconds, and the champion almost steps on her, but she regains her senses and shadowsteps away from danger.

After a brief discussion, during which Rytlock and Garm come back and Eir returns from retrieving her hammer, Caithe shadowsteps up to the dragon and sinks both her daggers in to the dragon's neck. The dragon rears up in pain as well as whatever Caithe and Zojja are doing to it.

Tiffany shoots an exploding arrow at the base of the dragon's tail, hoping to finish Garm's work in dislodging the powerful weapon, but the dragon just jerks, nearly sending Caithe flying.

Tiffany hears a roar from the other champion, which is proving to be a very tough challenge for the Vigil, and decides to focus her fire in that direction. Exploding arrows take out its eyes, which greatly helps the warriors fighting it.

She glances back at Destiny's Edge. That tail is proving to be a very big hindrance to their efforts. Logan is back on his feet, tired but alright, and after a brief discussion that Tiffany can't hear over the roaring of the dragons, Logan finally throws up his hands in surrender to Rytlock.

Their brief conversation is interrupted by the champion's tail - _again_. Tiffany sighs. _Who knew tails could be so annoying,_ she reflects.

Logan and Rytlock reunite out of the dragon's range, and Rytlock hands Sohothin to Logan. Tiffany's eyes get so wide that tears spring into them. "Rytlock did wha…?" she whispers.

Rytlock then picks Logan up and throws him at the champion. _So Snaff wasn't kidding when he said they had a ready-made catapult,_ Tiffany notes in a corner of her mind. Logan lands in the dragon's mouth, holding Sohothin and his own sword. A blue bubble of guardian magic springs up around him, vastly irritating the champion as it tries to chomp down on him.

Tiffany's bow falls from her hands as she realizes what danger Logan is in. "Logan, no!" she shouts, but her cry is lost in the noise of the battle.

Logan jabs Sohothin into the roof of the dragon's mouth, roasting its brain. The champion collapses on the sandy beach, flailing one last time, and then lies still.

Logan climbs out of the dragon's mouth and nearly falls over. Tiffany and Beorn run over the wooden bridge that separates Farshore Ward from Bloodcoast Ward and get to him by the time he sits up, surrounded by his guild.

"I just magically exhausted myself," he tells them. "I am not doing that again."

"Caithe's strategy almost worked," Eir points out. "What were you doing?" she asks the sylvari.

"I mixed Deception with the Aspect of Air," Caithe replies promptly, and the only thing saving Tiffany from a painful death of embarrassment via laughter is the fact that Beorn stuffs a whole mindful of fear down the connection. Fear that Logan had almost died - if it had taken any longer for him to kill the champion, he would've been dragon food.

However, Rytlock guffaws at the pun, interrupting Caithe, who pauses with her mouth open, trying to figure out what she'd said. Garm is already howling and rolling in the sand.

Caithe realizes it at the same time as Zojja does, her eyes opening wide in recognition as Zojja barks a single, short laugh. "I've been using the Aspect of Air all my life! I can't believe I never noticed before."

Eir herself is wearing an amused smile. "Garm makes fun of my name all the time," she points out, motioning toward the wolf still shaking with wolf-laughter. "I feel like I should be grumpy about it, but I just can't when he finds it so funny."

"That's the opposite of me and Beorn then," Tiffany says, shooting her bear a look. Beorn rolls his eyes at her.

"So that's how you manage to keep a straight face," Eir frowns. "I'd been wondering at your total lack of reaction every time the word 'air' was mentioned. Nobody is that thick."

Tiffany lets a little laugh escape her. "Honestly, it's been entertaining me for years. Beorn says his highest hope is to keep me from embarrassing myself."

Even Logan laughs at that one. "You're lucky," he tells her. "The first time I heard her name I thought I'd die."

What else had _Edge of Destiny_ left out? Tiffany would have loved to read that.

"You thought you would have," Eir points out. "You had no way of knowing I thought it was funny too. Garm could've ripped you to shreds for disrespecting me, for all you knew. I mean, I was in the middle of challenging you to a fight."

"Nah, I was more worried about Rytlock," Logan teases back. "He'd have taken the opportunity while I was incapacitated to turn me into ash."

"At that point in time?" Rytlock asks. "Yeah, maybe."

A roar interrupts them, and Zojja squeezes her eyes shut in exasperation. "We forgot about a dragon champion that's ten yards away," she huffs. "We'll never live it down from Tiffany."

"Ah, thanks for reminding me," Tiffany smirks. "Only, since it was more than half my fault, I doubt I'll bring it up very often."

"Wise choise," Caithe tells her. She turns back to Eir. "As I was saying, Zojja and I mixed Deception and the Aspect of Air. I was able to solidify it enough to block the dragon's throat. If I can hang on for long enough to that one…"

"We'll have to try," Eir points out. "Let's do two in a row."

"How many of those arrows do you have left?" Zojja asks Tiffany.

"Quite a few," Tiffany replies. "I already took out its eyes, but it hardly reacts to anything else."

"Alright, go back to where you were before. Keep a lookout," Eir instructs her.

Tiffany nods promptly and runs back.

As Destiny's Edge move toward the last champion, Tiffany is ambushed by Risen. Her axes come out in a flash and she sets to fighting them with a will. Their sneaky tactic of playing dead for a moment is really, _really_ irritating. Probably deadly to most people.

By the time she clears the Risen, Destiny's Edge have already made significant headway. The tail flops, useless but still connected, and its deadly claws are being smashed by Eir and her hammer. Logan, whose magical exhaustion renders him almost incapable, sits this one out, content that he'd done his part with the other champion.

Zojja and Caithe are channeling their respective Aspects, and Garm keeps the dragon's attention while Rytlock looks for an opening to stab it as Logan had.

But still the dragon flails, knocking them over with its limbs, snapping its fangs and dislodging Caithe many times. Apparently, it, too, learned from past battles. Risen communicate sonically - the other champion's cries of pain may actually have been information-bearing to this one.

As Caithe gets up from her latest fall, she speaks to Eir for a moment. Eir glances at the beast and shakes her head, says something else, and, upon Caithe's shrug, returns to the battle.

Zojja seems to have had an idea, and speaks quickly to Caithe about it. Caithe nods quickly and shadowsteps up. This time, instead of sticking both her daggers in randomly, they both go in the sides of the dragon's neck rather than the back.

And Caithe doesn't fall off again. The dragon - that seems capable of holding its breath for quite some time - flails and squirms for a good five minutes, and at times Caithe is even hanging on to her daggers in such a way they _should_ have come out - before dying.

Silence falls on the battlefield, quickly replaced by cheers, as the Risen all slump over. The dragon, slow to fall, collapses on the ground behind Destiny's Edge as they regroup in front of it.

A necromancer who'd been helping fight back the Risen informs them that Zhaitan's magic has left the bodies, and proceeds to suck all the remaining lifeforce out of the former dragon champions, reducing them to ash.

* * *

The Pact scatters throughout the city, combing through it looking for Risen. The Vigil had suffered many losses in this battle, and anyone that can be of any help is being pressed into duty. Magic users are given the option to help, and some do, but most of them are too magically worn out to help much. This cuts even further into the available troops, as does the problem of exhausted warriors with no magic at all being too tired to be effective.

However, somebody in the chain of command had insisted that all the searchers be put in pairs for safety. Somebody else had argued convincingly that rangers are already in pairs, and there aren't enough people to put them all in pairs and still effectively search anyway.

Tiffany is tired, but she can still fight, and her senses are sharp. She and Beorn walk through the Western Ward, both keeping a lookout for movement.

Together with rooting out the last of the Risen, any and all dead bodies are being burned - Pact, Lionguard and civilian alike. Nobody is going to risk the residue magic of the champions resurrecting anything.

"No, I don't want to work with you," comes a haughty voice around a corner. Tiffany frowns as the voice continues, "you're a stupid idiot who can't understand the meaning of 'shut up.'

"I _can_ understand the meaning of shut up, Bekkar," another voice says in an insulted tone.

Tiffany sighs in exasperation and makes her way toward the voices.

"You're not _applying_ such knowledge," the first voice - Bekkar - sneers. "That's what I meant and you know it."

"Oh, really?" the second voice asks in clear surprise. "Sorry, my bad."

Bekkar snarls in frustration. "Don't play dumb, you idiot."

"But I..." the voice pauses for a moment. "If I'm an idiot, then of course I'm dumb," the other voice points out, sounding confused.

After a moment of silent disbelief, during which Tiffany gets close enough to see them, Bekkar mutters, "I _wish_ you were dumb." Tiffany can see that the argument is taking place between two Priory - a young human and an extremely irritated-looking asura.

"Hey," Tiffany says curiously, interrupting them. "What's going on?"

"If you heard enough to know that something's going on, you very well know _what_ the something is," the asura - Bekkar, according to his voice - snaps.

Tiffany nods - slightly disconcerted by the rude response - and answers, "I was only checking."

"What's going on," the human grumbles, "is that Bekkar thinks I'm stupid."

Tiffany pauses, torn between wanting to agree with Bekkar and being polite. She chooses polite, mostly because her self-control hasn't disappeared yet. "I... why are you working together if you don't like each other?"

"That," Bekkar tells her, "is a _very_ good question."

The human frowns at Bekkar. "Because Steward Gixx told us to," he says obviously, to an eye-roll from Bekkar.

"Well, yes, of course," Tiffany allows. "But since searching for Risen does not require talking, why don't you both be quiet so you don't get into any arguments?"

"Because it _does_ require talking," the human points out, blinking. "Everything requires talking."

Tiffany huffs. "I meant _unnecessary_ talking," she clarifies grumpily.

"The ranger's right," Bekkar tells him.

"Is she?" the human asks, frowning at her.

"Yes!" Bekkar yells in frustration. "Now shut up and look for Risen!"

"No, no," the human says, frowning. "What do you mean, 'she's right?' Right about what? Why is she right?"

"You ask all the right questions," Bekkar snaps, "and have all the wrong mental faculties for the answers."

"Now, that's just insulting," the human observes.

"And the other stuff he was saying _isn't_?" Tiffany asks in confusion.

"Well, it was, but it was obvious that he was being insulting," the human explains. "Aren't we supposed to be looking for Risen, Bekkar?"

"And a hypocrite, to boot," Bekkar grumbles to himself.

"Right," Tiffany mutters. "A crazy, irritating one."

* * *

Tiffany, back on her own job, heads up the road toward Hooligan's Route, and as she rounds a corner she sees the most bizarre sight.

An engineer had set up a turret that spits bullets at the intersection where the Western Ward's road meets up with the White Crane Terrace's road and goes on to Hooligan's Route. The engineer isn't around anymore, but as Tiffany contemplates the silent turret, it activates.

Spinning to life, it spews out bullets at a Risen coming from Hooligan's Route… a Risen wearing a bucket on its head.

Tiffany gapes for a moment. _It's a parody of Plants vs Zombies! It's Turrets vs Risen!_ She doesn't stop laughing until long after the turret deactivates again, the Risen dead.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

* I am not going to start using the New Lion's Arch map because of this. It will take a _lot_ for me to start using that. I don't like the current in-game version of Lion's Arch.

Yes, I have been planning both the 'buckethead Risen' for some time. I seriously did laugh for five minutes the first time I thought of it. Also been planning on introducing Bekkar for some time. That was _not_ a random encounter.

Hope you enjoyed it!

What? What? How are my hands not sore? I've been writing and writing and writing for the last… how long? Since I last posted!

Hope you like it!

Note: I posted this chapter in a hurry on Saturday. It has been updated, with a lot of minor fixes, including spelling mistakes, sentence structure mistakes. I also fixed the problem that, apparently, sonic weapons don't make any noise (check out Leon's portion of the chapter), which I fixed, as well as the Orders apparently forgetting that dragon champions are dangerous and they can't handle them (see the forming Pact section of the chapter), where I added in a mention of Destiny's Edge.

Note: I changed a few more things pending the posting of the next chapter, including the conversation with Bekkar (transforming him from an annoying, arrogant toerag into somebody of like irritations as Tiffany), Leon's singing capability (because he insisted he didn't have a bad voice), adding in some stuff about Deborah to Tiffany's 'I'm afraid of mentioning the Pact, what do I do' dilemma, increasing the damage done to the city from 'a buncha landmarks are gone! Wah!' to 'our city has been hollowed out by acid spit! We're homeless,' edited for clarity and newfound lack of abrupt 'where did that come from' on the section about Ogden (because I received a complaint and had a personal dissatisfaction, respectively), and began the first of many alterations concerning the Dream (I decided it can't track locations of people). The most major change is the conversation with Bekkar; you should re-read that bit, the other differences are negligible.


	16. Chapter 16: Epilogue

TRINITY RISING

* * *

Summary: The day after the Battle of Lion's Arch, Caithe approaches Tiffany and Fiona with a wary question - what they think Scarlet's 'secret of the sylvari' is. On both sides, neither can see how the other knows the secret, so neither tells, although Caithe is informed of the possible ramifications of withholding the secret from Destiny's Edge. Afterward, Fiona goes to inform Gixx that she is going to take some time off until tomorrow. He is worried about the Pact, and Fiona finds herself at first wondering whether she can reassure him, to tentatively succeeding in the face of their questioning about the Order of Whispers… something Sieran has to say something about in private afterwards. As she looks for Vriré, Trahearne asks her to tell the others in the Dream's 'scouting group' about a meeting tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, Braham confronts Tiffany, tells her to stay away, and leaves. Eir offers Tiffany some advice, which she takes. Tiffany heads home with Fiona, speaks briefly to Petra, and heads upstairs to think about Deborah while Fiona goes to tell Sieran about Trahearne's meeting. Forgal shows up, and they all have a long talk.

* * *

Chapter sixteen: Epilogue

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Sorry for the long hiatus, but now I can settle in to writing with a good conscience.

I made a bunch of edits to the last chapter, _Plans for the Pact_, because I posted it in a hurry and had to change some things. (Even if you don't care about most of them, you should re-read the conversation with Bekkar at the end - it's been massively revamped and its purpose changed.)

BINGO! Posted on June 22nd, the exact day I'd said I'd come back! (That means hiatus ended a week ago, which you may have guessed when the previous chapter - the author's note telling you about my school - went down.)

_**Okay, here's the story now:**_

* * *

Tiffany wakes up the next day to find that Claw Island has been retaken by the Pact and put back into the hands of Lionguard. Now, she and Fiona are preparing to head back to Divinity's Reach for the purpose of telling Petra and Andrew what had transpired.

Tiffany is quiet. There is suddenly nothing pressing that needs doing, as there has been the last couple of days, and her mind - which had been subconsciously processing everything she'd been going through - finally has a chance to make itself known.

Deborah, the Dream, the destruction of Lion's Arch, Destiny's Edge, the Pact… everything. There was a lot of bad, but also a lot of good.

Her subconscious had decided, apparently, that the damage to Lion's Arch is her fault. And she can't fault her own logic - if she'd simply gotten the Pact started sooner, the whole battle would have taken place on Claw Island, and Lion's Arch would have been spared. If it had just been the things the dragons smashed, it would have been better, but the acid spit had ruined many of the buildings, and the civilians who had been evacuated would mostly return home to nothing. Tiffany wonders what those same civilians had done in the game when Scarlet destroyed the city.

The fact that Scarlet's destruction and her own - or Zhaitan's - are named the same thing is also rather telling.

Not to _mention_ Deborah's death - Tiffany knows that one is fully on her. She'd known the future, and how had that helped? Forgal hadn't died, but Deborah _had_. Tiffany herself hadn't even done that much to save Forgal - just called Talon names and had Fiona and Vriré guard the watchtowers. That could easily have gone downhill - she should have been at the towers herself. The fact that she did _not_ make even the same precautions the second time hurts.

She, like the current Watch Commander Mira, had thought it enough that several Lionguard were at the tower. Since when had she trusted NPCs with the lives of her allies?

And since when did she call them 'NPCs,' either? Tiffany mulls over this question for some time, and comes up with an answer that is not very satisfactory to her. They are NPCs because she hadn't known them. It's the only word she has for people she doesn't know. She hadn't talked to them, made sure they _weren't_ NPCs.

But… why is her mind still so game-oriented? She'd been living in, around, and with people she doesn't know all her life. Why would she call them NPCs? Why not 'unproven soldiers,' 'allies who had not yet won her respect,' or any other such description, even 'people she doesn't know' as she would have termed them on earth? 'People she doesn't know' is all she can figure out of why she had called them NPCs, as well.

Tiffany turns to Fiona with a frown, about to tell her what she had just thought, but Fiona smirks at her, and suddenly Caithe appears out of nowhere. Tiffany nearly jumps out of her skin in surprise. "Don't do that!" she gasps. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"A what attack?" Caithe frowns, glancing around.

Tiffany facepalms. Oddly enough, the thought of laughing at Caithe's misunderstanding never occurs to her. "Nevermind," she says. "It's an expression that means you scared me really bad."

"Oh." Caithe frowns, then shakes her head as if dismissing the concern. "As it is, I have a few things to speak to you about. First; why can I feel you through the Dream?"

Tiffany brightens. "Trahearne took us to see the Pale Tree, and she sent us into the Dream to look at the future, and we kind of bonded. Or something. So we're part sylvari now?"

"She's _always_ wanted to be a sylvari," Fiona tells Caithe.

Caithe just nods. "I see. The other issue is this - what do you think Scarlet's secret is?"

Tiffany frowns. "This is about this 'secret to the sylvari' you mentioned?" she asks Fiona.

Fiona nods, glancing warily at Caithe.

"I know you know what I'm talking about," Caithe tells the ranger. "Don't play dumb."

Obviously, Caithe isn't taking any chances with this. Tiffany frowns, unsure whether to tell Caithe. She feels as if she should make Caithe tell her first, but that vision in the Dream… if Caithe won't tell her own guildmates, she certainly won't tell Tiffany and Fiona. Tiffany glances at her sister, unsure, and Fiona shrugs.

Tiffany hasn't got the slightest clue how Caithe could possibly know about Mordremoth, though, so she is stuck.

"What do you think it is?" Caithe asks again, more sharply this time.

"I think it is something that…" Tiffany trails off with a frown. Caithe is mysterious, cryptic, and she obviously has a history with Faolain over this. Who knows what she would do. Caithe is also the only person who _wouldn't_ tell - she won't tell her own guildmates - but at the same time, Caithe might be talking about something completely different. "Something that should remain a secret," she says finally. "I think the Pale Tree agrees, though she didn't speak explicitly on the subject."

"The Pale Tree knows about this?" Caithe asks, frowning. "But she _isn't_ the one who told you?"

"She didn't tell us, no," Tiffany replies. "But I think she knows. We were inside the Dream, and she sent us to watch a separate vision about your secret while she spoke to Trahearne."

Caithe had opened her mouth to ask a question, but her attention is grabbed by something else. "A vision… about the secret?" Caithe asks warily, her eyes sharp.

"Yes," Fiona confirms. "We saw Destiny's Edge, at odds again. So soon after recovering from your previous… disagreements, this secret - a secret that they now know exists - breaks you apart. You didn't tell them, wouldn't tell, no matter how many times they asked. This hasn't happened yet," Fiona reminds her, "but it could. We don't know how soon, but we also saw the formation of the Pact in the Dream, so it's around this timeframe."

Caithe seems surprised, but she shows no other signs of shock… aside from, perhaps, relief? "I see," she says simply.

"We - me and Fiona - won't ask you to tell us," Tiffany informs her. "But I… we… thought you should be fully informed. For the sake of Destiny's Edge and Tyria, I hope you and your companions can work through it."

Caithe just nods, and shadowsteps away. Tiffany sits down in a chair. "Well, there goes nothing," she sighs. "I suppose it all depends on how curious Caithe is, and how certain we can get of what it is she's hiding. I'd like to tell her, but if she _doesn't_ already know…"

"Right," Fiona agrees.

* * *

Tiffany and Fiona split up to report to their various Orders before heading home.

Fiona finds Gixx conferring anxiously with Sieran and a tall norn.

"Ah! Magister Fiona," Gixx exclaims upon seeing her. "This pact is a most curious thing, don't you agree? It's just… I don't see how we can possibly work together in any profitable way! It's just not built for a long-term endeavor such as moving against Zhaitan. The Priory isn't ready, _can't_ be ready if we don't have the knowledge to stop Risen from trapping us under our own floor!"

"Steward," Fiona sighs, wondering herself about the stability of the Pact if this is how its most important leaders are thinking. The Vigil can handle that. The Priory aren't _built_ for fighting. The Vigil is, though, and this pact is _designed_ to prevent such a thing from happening again, or… yeah." She'd been about to say 'or at least from being as bad as it could be, like happened last time' but decided against it.

"Yes, but the Priory doesn't have _time_ to work with underhanded backstabbers and brainless warmongers," the norn points out. "How do the Order of Whispers help us?"

"Because," Fiona starts, but then pauses. How _do_ the Order of Whispers help?"

"Is it just because you're an Agent?" Gixx asks suspiciously.

Right. Leon had blurted out _that_ secret. "No, it's not," Fiona replies, wondering how to prove it. She wishes Tiffany were here, and instantly feels guilty. _She_ supports _Tiffany_, not the other way around. What would Tiffany say? How is the Order of Whispers beneficial to the Pact? Honestly, Fiona doesn't know, now that she thinks about it. Tiffany would know, if she was here.

"Even if it isn't," the norn inserts, "why are we asking her for advice anyway? The Order of Whispers all act to the greater goals of the Order of Whispers."

"The Order of Whispers' 'greater goals' are to defeat the Elder Dragons," Fiona snaps, "just like us and the Vigil." Oh! There, she'd said it. She'd said what Tiffany would have said, at least in part.

"But how are they _useful?_" Gixx asks again.

"They're not… bad," Sieran offers. "They helped a lot in the Battle of Lion's Arch. Even if they don't help any more, they don't get in our way or anything."

"And yet they infiltrate our organization," the norn points out, gesturing toward Fiona. "It happened with 'Magister' Leon Traydor, as well."

"It's what they do," Fiona replies. "And now that we're allied with them, we - _you_ \- will know who those infiltrators are. Because, technically, they're not infiltrators any more. They're people who carried the spirit of the Pact with them before the Pact was ever formed." Oh, boom. Now, even Tiffany might not have said that one. She's doing it! She's fulfilling her role!

Which, so far, includes a lot of _talking_. Oh, joy.

Gixx seems to accept this, although tentatively. "Alright," he replies, rather grumpily. "So… what did you come here for?"

"I wanted to ask if there was anything else the Priory is doing before I head home," Fiona replies. "My family are probably dying of worry right now, after the big battle."

"I… I think it depends on Trahearne," Gixx replies. "I'm not sure what we're doing next."

"Why don't you suggest a meeting, then?" Fiona offers helpfully. "To discuss plans now that Lion's Arch is safe."

"Yes, yes, I'll do that…" Gixx nods to himself. "You go do your thing, I'll send Sieran to get you when things have been resolved."

Fiona nods. "Thanks, Steward." She turns away, but before she has gone far, Sieran catches up to her.

"You never told me you joined the Order of Whispers," she says, hurt showing through in her voice, shining in her eyes, and, most importantly, radiating through the Dream. Fiona had never felt specific emotion from Sieran before - from anybody except Tiffany, in fact - and realizes that this situation is important, and might make or break their friendship.

Yipes. Fiona sighs. "Sieran, I…" she actually doesn't have an excuse for this one. Not one that Sieran will like, anyway. She and Tiffany had talked about telling her, but upon being asked if Sieran was the type to keep secrets, they'd dropped the topic. If she tells Sieran that she'd thought she'd tell, Sieran will think she doesn't trust her.

The problem is, Fiona does trust her. Sieran had been there for her countless times, and Sieran and she had been partners for too long for Fiona _not_ to trust her. Apparently, Sieran feels the same - if the hint from _emotion_ through the Dream is anything to go by - and perhaps even more.

It's just that her secret-keeping capability… probably isn't the best. Fiona hasn't ever seen Sieran display a lack of… whatever it is that makes people tell secrets… it's just that she'd likely forget or something. She's _Sieran_. And the secrets she and Tiffany have are just too… well… secret.

But Sieran had surprised her before - both with her attitude over her role at Sorrow's Embrace, and now, more recently, she had been showing an unusual… maturity. As if she'd finally done the sylvari equivalent to growing up, whatever that may be.

But even if Fiona had been ready to tell her now, that's not the problem. The problem is that Sieran is suddenly questioning their friendship, and Fiona can't just say 'we thought you couldn't keep the secret.' That would just be mean of her, and possibly drive Sieran away and they wouldn't be friends anymore. At the same time, however, she can't just say 'I don't know, we never thought about it' because… well… just because.

After a beat of silence that had stretched into several seconds, Fiona struggling to formulate a response, she finally answers, "we were going to tell you someday, Sieran, I… we just - we weren't sure how you'd react," she says, finally finding a reason. "Tiffany told Forgal, and he nearly killed her, and… well…"

The hurt radiating through the Dream vanishes, and the emotion in her eyes and tone - although not reflected in the Dream anymore - is, not confusion, but maybe a mix of thoughtfulness, sympathy, and understanding. "I understand. I still wish you'd told me - I did think you knew me better - but I understand."

Fiona nods. She _does_ know Sieran better - it had been a topic that came up in her talk with Tiffany - even if Sieran had had similar background with the Order of Whispers, Sieran would never have reacted that way on impulse. But it's a better reason than the real one.

Sieran smiles. "Thank you, Fiona. For everything." She then turns and hurries off.

_Now, what does __that__ mean?_ Fiona wonders as she turns back toward the temporary Whispers base. 'For everything?' Fiona had actually hardly done anything for Sieran recently, or at all, just in general.

"Fiona, good to see you," comes a voice from ahead of her, and Fiona glances up from her study of the acid-eaten cobblestone of Lion's Arch to see Trahearne.

"You too," Fiona nods, pausing in her walk. "How have you been? It must be hard, trying to keep the Orders together."

"It is actually fairly intriguing," Trahearne replies, "but that is not what I wanted to speak to you about. When you see Tiffany, could you tell her that I want to speak to you? If you can bring Forgal, Sieran, and Lightbringer Vriré, as well, I'd appreciate it - it's about what we saw within the Dream."

Fiona smiles. "That's awesome! I'll be sure to tell them."

"Thank you," Trahearne tells her. "Meet me tomorrow morning by the Mystic Forge."

Fiona nods. "Understood. Oh," she adds, remembering, "and I just spoke to Gixx. He's concerned about the long-term… stability of the Pact. I reassured him… kinda… not too sure how good a job I did… but that might be something you'll need to address."

"Yes, thank you for informing me," Trahearne tells her. "I'll look into it."

The two part ways and Fiona locates Vriré, who is in the midst of reporting to Preceptor Doern.

"Agent Fiona, present and unconcerned," Fiona tells him, indicating that she is there but does not need to speak to him. He nods in acknowledgement.

Once Vriré is done speaking to Doern, Fiona takes her a bit farther away so they aren't intruding. "Trahearne wants to meet with us by the Mystic Forge tomorrow morning," Fiona tell her. "He'll explain why then. Also, do you have anything for me to do before I head home for a bit?"

Vriré shakes her head. "As far as I can tell, Preceptor Doern isn't sure what is going to happen next with this pact. Most of the Whisperers in the city ar on standby or full-on leave for now." She pauses. "You can go - you'll be back tomorrow morning - but be ready in case Doern summons you back. You're his most important Priory liaison, apart from Trahearne, after all."

Fiona smiles. "Thanks, Lightbringer. See you tomorrow."

"No problem, Agent," Vriré replies.

* * *

"Tiffany," Braham says warily. "I need to speak to you about Eir."

Tiffany pauses, and, after a moment, turns toward him. "I'm sorry, Braham," she says. "I really am. If I'd known you were related I'd have - "

"Done what?" Braham asks roughly. Seriously, what would she have done that could have fixed it? "Brought up the topic? I don't care about Eir, and she doesn't care about me."

Tiffany frowns. "Then why are you so… upset… that I didn't tell you?"

Braham huffs. He doesn't know the answer to that, not really. "I like things to be clear between people I consider friends," Braham tells her at last. "Everyone in Cragstead knows I'm Eir's son. What they _don't_ do is try to avoid the topic, or ignore the fact, or pretend like it's anything but what it is. Us norn like simple, Tiffany. Nobody else seems to understand that. Once things are clear, they can be forgotten and not cared about. That's what happened when Eir left, and that's what's happened ever since."

Tiffany seems uncertain what to say, although she winces for no visible reason. "I didn't know," Tiffany repeats finally. "That's the pure and simple of it." She shrugs. "I might not understand things if I'm not told - I am actually very terrible at noticing things if I'm not told - but now I know. So, you want me to do what in regards to this whole problem?"

"I just - " Braham pauses, struggling for words. "Just stay away," he says finally.

Tiffany blinks in surprise. "Why - ?" she starts.

"Because," Braham snaps. He isn't sure why himself. "It's difficult to… I just… just stay away."

He turns and leaves, wandering aimlessly deeper into the fort. He can feel Tiffany's eyes on his back. He can also hear a low rumble in Beorn's throat that had started when he approached Tiffany.

"What did you do, Braham?" Malena asks him with a sigh.

"Talked to Tiffany," he replies shortly, not even surprised at her appearance. He shrugs. "I told her I'd prefer if we kept our distance from each other. Simpler that way."

"You know its not her fault," Malena point out. "She didn't know."

Braham huffs. "I know," he grumbles, a hint of anger in his voice. "I don't care."

* * *

"Tiffany? Are you okay?" Eir asks.

"What?" Tiffany asks, startled out of thought. She glances at Eir. "Oh, no. I'm fine." She's not, really. Braham's rejection had shaken her. She wishes she could tell him she knew the future, and _that_ was why, but Braham is… impulsive. Tiffany isn't sure if she can trust him with a big secret like this yet. She is coming to realize that she doesn't actually know him that well.

"You seem disturbed," Eir notes. "And Beorn isn't happy."

"Fine," Tiffany sighs. "It's about Braham. He doesn't like me, and I can't figure out why."

Eir sighs as well. "He doesn't like me either. He has a reason for that, though."

"He doesn't like me mostly because I know you," Tiffany tells her. "Or because I didn't tell him I know you. One of the two."

"I got the feeling," Eir agrees. "Don't worry, I understand that you didn't know before. Braham, on the other hand…"

Tiffany nods. "That was the problem before, but I'm fairly sure I fixed that problem."

"Braham - well, norn teens in general - can be impulsive," Eir tells her. "Moreso than the other races. They are young, brash, and ready to prove their worth to the world. They don't like being challenged in ways they can't cope with. I don't know what Braham is thinking - you know him better than I do - but I think he just needs time. If his attitude toward me is any indication, he places a great value on relationships," she adds.

Tiffany nods slowly. She'd never thought about that before - she knows Braham better than Eir does. And he places 'great value' on relationships. He's like her, then. "Thanks, Eir. Your support means a lot to me." And she means it.

"You're welcome," the norn tells her. "I understand what you're going through."

Tiffany blinks as Eir walks away with Garm on her heels. Yes, Eir would know. A mother would know her son whether she'd spent time with him or not, too. Maybe she can give him some time.

* * *

Tiffany and Fiona meet up at the Priory-hacked waypoint. She'd reported to General Almorra, who had given her permission to leave for a day or so.

"Tiffany!" she hears Forgal call, and turns to see him hurrying toward them. "I want to speak with you later. You're going home, right?" he checks.

"Yes," Tiffany comfirms. "See you later?"

Forgal nods. "I only have a moment - I've been assigned to watch the Vigil Keep with a small squad until we can muster a Pact response to the Risen there, but my shift ends in the late afternoon."

"Got it," Tiffany says, saluting. "Let's go, Fi."

* * *

The two disappear in puffs of blue. As they walk toward the tavern, Tiffany is hit by the lack of urgency. The last several days had been packed with activity, and she hadn't even had a chance to think about Deborah's death. And the next few days will be the same, barring the Vigil retaking the Keep. This might be her only break before the Pact really gets in motion.

"Tiffany, I almost forgot," Fiona says suddenly. "Trahearne wants to see us, Forgal, Sieran and Vriré tomorrow morning. He said it's about the Dream."

"Us, Forgal, Sieran and Vriré," Tiffany repeats. "That's everybody in that group we saw in the Dream, and the ones who helped us fight the Eye we faced, and the gate guardian."

"That's the point," Fiona agrees as they approach the tavern. "Can you tell Forgal when he gets here? I need to go tell Sieran, and I already notified Vriré. I just need to assure Petra I'm fine."

"You're… different," Tiffany notes with a small frown.

Fiona shrugs. "If you say so."

"You're…" Tiffany pauses, struggling for words. "More direct? You think ahead a bit more, maybe. Something like that."

Fiona shrugs again, andl eave sit at that.

"Tiffany! Fiona!" Petra cries, as they enter the tavern, running over and hugging them. "You're alive, thank Dwayna, you're alive."

Tiffany offers a sickly smile, glancing at Fiona, who grimaces. "We're fine, Petra," she says quietly. "We're fine. Lion's Arch is safe now, but we have to return tomorrow morning in order to - "

"No!" Petra snaps, fire in her eyes. "You're not going anywhere. You're going to stay here where it's safe."

Tiffany glances at Fiona. That's Petra's 'no nonsense' tone. Beorn tells her it's probably about Deborah.

"Where's Andrew?" Fiona asks, changing the topic.

"Visiting Zachariah," Petra says dismissively.

Tiffany and Fiona exchange glances. Andrew and Zachariah, fast friends, can spend hours in each other's company, and often stay over night. They won't get any reprieve from Petra in the older man.

"Come on, you two," Petra says, accepting the topic change as surrender. "You've been away for days, you need some rest."

Tiffany shrugs. A break from being busy, perhaps, but she's well rested. The tavern is almost empty - as well it might, being the middle of Monday morning - and the sisters head up to their bedroom.

"That was weird," Fiona notes, opening the door.

But Tiffany's gaze is riveted on the door across the hall. Deborah's room. Tiffany swallows the lump that had risen in her throat.

"Tiff, you coming?" Fiona calls from inside, and Tiffany enters her own room, glancing around at the familiarity of the room she'd shared with her twin for twenty-four years.

"Yeah," Tiffany answers unnecessarily, dropping down into a cushioned chair. Deborah had sneaked in and woken her up with a bucket of ice water once, when she was little. She'd repaid the effort with a similar maneuver. Now, she would give anything to wake up shivering and wet, with Deborah's grinning face hovering over her.

It can't happen, though, however much Tiffany yearns for it - Deborah is dead. She isn't coming back.

"Boo!" Fiona shrieks, causing Tiffany to jump with a startled cry. "What are we doing up here?" Fiona asks rhetorically. "I want to go find Sieran."

Tiffany shrugs. "Nothing stopping you. I'll tell Petra where you went." Except, Petra's insistence on them not leaving might -

"Alright," Fiona says, interrupting Tiffany's thoughts. "See you later!"

Tiffany watches her sister disappear in a puff of blue, and gets the strong urge to call her back. What if she doesn't return? Perhaps Petra has the right idea.

Tiffany reminds herself that Fiona is a capable fighter, and an even more capable Deceiver, and definitely competent enough to deal with herself in a dangerous situation. Claw Island had been different.

Deborah had been a dedicated soldier, staunchly loyal to Queen Jennah and Kryta. She had risked her life many times in defense of her country, and Deborah is the reason Tiffany had been at the gates of Divinity's Reach the day her 'earth side' had entered Tyria.

Deborah had had a unique relationship with Beorn, despite not being a ranger herself; the two had even conspired against her occasionally, like the time Beorn had distracted her so that Deborah could sneak up and surprise Tiffany, or when Beorn had told her, during a Deborah-the-monster game, that it was safe around the corner.

Those things will never happen again. No furious curse-wars, no laughing at Deborah's unerring tickle tactics, no falling asleep to Deborah's mysterious stories of the centaur war, with their magic and ferocity. Like a hole in her life, Deborah is gone - completely. Only memory is left.

Tiffany crosses the hall to Deborah's room - a simple mirror of her own, but designed for one person and full of _Deborah_. Tiffany had hid under this table once, when planning her own mischief. Deborah had found her easily and chased her all over the tavern, and exacted a vicious toll of laughter before she let Tiffany go.

Tiffany glances over her shoulder. Most of her memories of this room involve Deborah scaring her wits out; Deborah had guarded this room dutifully, and Tiffany was only allowed in if she sneaked in. Realization sets in, though - Deborah never will make her panic so hard again. Her existence won't cause her heart to thump painfully in Tiffany's chest when hiding in here; she won't be able to keep Tiffany out with a tickle-threat again.

Tiffany walks further into the room, stepping lightly by habit, and wishing it was more than that. Beorn follows her in - he used to remain always by the door to alert her when Deborah was coming.

Deborah had carved her name into the mantlepiece above the fireplace when she'd first made it into the Screaming Falcon division. A newer carving added her rank as a Sergeant of that regiment. In the headboard over her bed she'd carved her oath of loyalty to the crown, and on the doorway are the first ones Deborah had put there - _T_, _B_, _F_, _D,_ _P_ and _A_. The first letters of each family member's name.

Family had meant the world to Deborah. She'd put Tiffany first because 'it's her dagger; why wouldn't I?' as Deborah had shrugged to Andrew when he asked why his initial was last. Tiffany had never asked for the real reason. Deborah valued what she carved above all else, particularly the nuances. She wouldn't have put Tiffany first just because it was her dagger.

Tiffany's eyes fill with tears as she runs her fingers over the words carved in the wood. It _had_ been Tiffany's dagger; Deborah had taken it as a keepsake once, during a tickle game, and never gave it back. She'd used it to carve her furniture, and Petra had always sighed over it.

Tiffany knows that Deborah had even carved _FAMILY_ into the hilt of her sword, always reminding her of who she fought for even above her queen and country.

Tiffany finds the dagger where she knows she would find it - under Deborah's pillow, to 'keep Tiffany from stealing it, the little minx' as Deborah had once told a Seraph friend. Tiffany could have retrieved it at any time, with Deborah out and on Seraph business so often, but she hadn't.

Now, she cries over the little knife. Deborah won't ever play keep-away with it, won't supposedly change the hiding place as she had asserted so often, won't tease Tiffany by her possession of it by fiddling with it while they talked. She won't carve with it again; won't use it to express what she cares about.

She can't. She's dead. Tiffany won't ever hear her speak again, won't ever be mercilessly tickled by the vengeful older sister, won't ever snap 'whatever' in that smugly superior tone.

The Tassof Tavern without Deborah, Tiffany foresees, is a bleak, dull place with grief permeating its very walls. Deborah's spirit is in the foundation of it, and the echo of her voice rings from top to bottom.

Tiffany glances around the forbidden bedroom, and her eyes fall on another carving, one she hadn't known about. _Some must fight so that all may be free._

Tiffany's breath comes in ragged gasps as she takes in the meaning of the message. She reaches out tentatively, caressing the letters. Deborah had carved this as a sign of her loyalty to the Vigil, to fighting the dragons, to protecting the innocent.

_Some must fight so that all may be free._

Deborah had dedicated herself to the Vigil as surely as she had fought for the Seraph, and in doing so, she had been following in Tiffany's footsteps, as Tiffany had in hers when she set out to Shaemoor. Wonder replaces tears as Tiffany caresses the rough cuts in the wood.

The deep meaning of the carving is not lost on Tiffany - a meaning too deep for words. In this carving, Deborah acknowledges her loyalties transcending Kryta and the crown. The words exemplify her following her sister in defending Tyria. In the rough wood, she recognizes the threat of the Elder Dragons. In the dagger still clutched tightly in Tiffany's hand, Deborah had expounded, in the deepest way she knew how, that she, Deborah, possessed the ability and skill to help fight them. The meaning of the message itself tells of her commitment, her belief and loyalty, to such a concept.

She had died in the service of the Vigil - and had thought that cost worth it. Worth it to let _Tiffany_ live on, fighting the dragons. The tears flow freely again. It had been her Tyrian side's biggest dream, to surpass Deborah, to show that she could be like her, could help in a way that the Tassof family was not already helping.

But why, oh why, did such recognition have to come with her sister's death? Her initial had been first because Deborah knew in her heart that Tiffany _would_ surpass her; Andrew's initial had been last because he had never aspired to be anything more than a tavernkeeper.

_Some must die so that others may fight._ That is the real message here.

* * *

Forgal arrives at the tavern and is greeted by Tiffany and Fiona, who are both acting a bit strange. They keep glancing at Petra with unreadable expressions, for one thing.

Finally, when Tiffany informs Petra that she and Fiona are going upstairs, Petra smirks at them and heads into the basement. She nods when she returns, and Tiffany and Fiona bring Forgal up.

"What's going on?" he asks them.

They trade unreadable looks while blushing.

"Come on," Forgal teases. "What's going on?"

"Petra put a tether on us," Fiona mumbles at last.

Forgal gapes for a moment, then starts laughing.

"It's not funny!" Tiffany protests. "She doesn't want us to die, so she won't let us leave!"

Forgal frowns. "That is… problematic," he points out. The unsaid 'but also, I can sympathize' that all of them feel is understood by all of them.

"I _know,_" Tiffany sighs. "They're designed to keep us from waypointing, as well."

"They're designed for toddlers," Forgal reminds her, a trace of humor in his voice. "They keep children on a leash, but there's nothing to stop you from taking the tetherstone from Petra."

"We know where it is," Fiona points out. "It's in the basement. We know how to get it. But we can't - not without Petra noticing. We'd have to leave immediately.

"Then," Forgal says, amused by the whole thing, "wait until you leave to take it from her. Take it and waypoint out. Deal with the tetherstone itself later." Forgal nods decisively. "Now we've got that settled - and I _am_ going to tease you with this forever - I would like to speak about what I came here for."

"Oh, certainly," Tiffany says, nodding.

"Just before I came here, I spoke with General Almorra," Forgal tells them. "She said that Deborah's body had been… found… on Claw Island."

"Really?" Tiffany asks eagerly.

Forgal winces. "Well… in a manner of speaking. She's been Risen."

Tiffany gapes at him. "I can't believe I didn't think of that! Of _course_ she'd be Risen…" Tiffany slumps in her chair. "We'll have to… deal with her… won't we?"

Fiona nods, her eyes haunted. "She's been Risen," she repeats in a hollow voice.

"I suppose we'll find out when we can… put her to rest… tomorrow morning," Tiffany notes grimly, her eyes blazing in determination. "Zhaitan won't get away with this one."

"Why, what's tomorrow morning?" Forgal asks, glancing between them.

"Oh, we didn't tell you?" Fiona asks, shaking herself and returning to the conversation. "Trahearne wants to meet us, Sieran and Vriré tomorrow morning. It's about something we saw in the Dream, from what he said."

"In the Dream?" Forgal queries.

"We'll explain it all tomorrow morning," Tiffany assures him. "Easier to do it with Sieran and Vriré there, you know."

Forgal nods. He doesn't trust Vriré - she's of the Order of Whispers, for one thing, and while he trusts Tiffany and Fiona, they are different. Vriré high-ranking and well-respected within the Order. "Where are we meeting?" he asks.

"Mystic Forge," Tiffany replies. "Is there any word on when we are going to retake the Keep?"

"General Almorra wants to return tomorrow, and she'll be leading the attacking force," Forgal tells her. "I'm not sure whether it's going to be a Pact effort or a Vigil one, but I assume we'll find out then."

Tiffany nods. "Alright. Now, you said you spoke with General Almorra just before you came here, but that was after you said you wanted to speak with us."

"You told me your biggest secret - you know the future - but you mentioned there was something else," Forgal reminds her.

"Oh, that!" Fiona realizes. "Well… as it turns out… how do you want to tell this, Tiff? It's kind of harder to explain."

Tiffany frowns in thought for a moment. "Okay," she says after a moment. "Imagine there are other worlds. Like, there's Tyria, but there's also other places with different magic and different rules and different people and types of people. Me and Fiona know about at least one other - in it, the only sentient people are humans, there is no magic and what there is is looked down upon as dark, forbidden stuff. There are no dragons and no other big threats, and humanity is divided into races based on lineage and geographical location."

Forgal blinks at her. "That is hard to imagine," he informs her.

"I know," Tiffany admits. "The other hard thing to grasp is that they have asuran-level technology, _without_ the use of magitech."

Forgal's eyes widen. "How is that possible?"

"They have a better understanding of physics," Fiona suggests, "without magic, either as hindrance or crutch. Also, they don't have asura to do it for them." She smirks at Tiffany. "Also, there is instantaneous nonmagical communication, flying for travel purposes, weather prediction, and instant access to any book you want to read from almost anywhere."

"And you know about this… how?" Forgal asks, being the only thing he can think of.

"Well… we're kind of from there, originally," Tiffany says slowly. "We were born and raised on earth."

"That world is called 'earth?'" Forgal asks, skeptical. "They called their whole world literally 'dirt?'"

Tiffany shrugs. "Not sure where the word came from. Also, it's only roughly six thousand years old, with the dating system having to do with a whole different event than the Exodus of the Gods."

"So how did you get here from there?" Forgal asks, frowning.

"That is the other half of this secret," Tiffany tells him. "I'd like you to get a bit more acquainted with earth first, because a lot of the mindblowing and foreign technology was involved. And, admittedly, probably a bit of magic, too."

"Right, you said no magic on earth," Forgal recalls. "Could you… elaborate?"

"Well, to get the obvious out of the way," Fiona says, "there was no such thing as the Aspects. No mesmers, no elementalists, no nothing. People would sometimes pretend to do silly tricks - pull things out of midair - but it was all setup and not really magic. Real magic was all about summoning evil spirits and stuff, and was rare, and aside from that - no magic whatever at all."

Forgal frowns, trying to imagine such a world.

"I know, it's probably kinda hard," Tiffany says sympathetically. "As far as I've seen, Tyria doesn't have much in the way of fictional fantasy stories - a sad loss, if you ask me - so imagining different worlds must be harder."

"So, earth has a lot of these?" Forgal asks.

"Yes," Fiona nods. "They take us to bazillions of different worlds, though, as far as I've seen, none defy the laws of physics or anything. At a very base level, all the worlds are similar."

Tiffany tilts her head in thought. "It would be interesting to see a story where the laws of physics _didn't_ rule. The only time they don't is when magic intervenes, but…"

"Back on track, Tiff," Fiona laughs. She turns to Forgal. "One of those fictional fantasy stories was about Tyria."

Realization dawns on Forgal as he realizes this is how they know the future. "Oh," he notes. "So, you took the place of somebody in the story?"

Tiffany nods. "Essentially, yes. Except that somebody was the most dynamic character in the world. He or she could be any race, any profession, with any number of different backgrounds depending on race, any number of specializations depending on profession, any one of the three Orders, not to mention all the different choices he or she could make along the way. And since the player made all the choices, the character themself didn't actually have a personality of their own."

Forgal frowns. "But how…?"

"Because the person - like me and Tiffany - who was playing the story could choose how the story went," Fiona explains. "There were a host of different things programmed in, and you just had to choose your path as you went."

"There were only a few key points where all the storylines came together," Tiffany tells him. "For example, all the Vigil missions were the same regardless of race. In the story, you would have taken me to quell the Renegades and Separatists even if I'd been a charr, norn, asura or sylvari. On the other hand, Priory members would not - they go with Sieran to find out more about the dredge."

"Well, that makes sense," Forgal notes. "The Orders are interracial; none of us care about the race, just the ability."

"Yes, and that's the point," Tiffany agrees. "However, there are a few major, pivotal moments and missions that occur no matter which Order you chose to join in the story - such as the Pact, the defeat of Zhaitan, and other such things. However, after the defeat of Zhaitan, most of the awesome story-choice things go away, and I'm kind of grumpy over that. Not anymore, of course - I'm _in_ Tyria, now, I have choice over the words I say, and I couldn't control the main character's words in the story."

"And yet you insist on quoting them," Fiona points out.

"I don't quote _myself_, that would be weird," Tiffany counters. "I mean, I'm sure I've said things similar to my character, but that's because the character says the basic stuff and doesn't have any speech patterns. She's got to be dynamic. But anyway, Forgal, that's how we know the future."

"I kinda figured that out," Forgal notes. Tiffany knew his future from a fantasy story? She knows everything from a _fantasy story?_ He would dearly love to point out that her knowledge can't be that reliable, but she had predicted… a lot of things. Like the formation of the Pact, his own death - which had been replaced by Deborah's - and other such things.

The problem, he realizes, lies in the fact that his closest friend - both of his closest friends - had come to him to get to know him and be his friends based on a _story!_ He'd previously thought that they'd lived through the future, or perhaps had memories of it that didn't exactly come from a direct participation in those events. It does explain why Tiffany had been so calm - well, comparatively - when discussing people's future deaths. She'd known about them from a story.

He wonders how she really felt when he died in the story. Had she been devastated, or had she moved on without a second thought? How invested in the story had she been? He shoves the doubt aside, though. Tiffany cares for him as he cares for her, and he had trusted her with many things, including the whole Order of Whispers thing.

Admittedly, that had been a lot easier once she revealed her future knowledge - and he still doesn't trust other Whispers agents - but the fact that he'd trusted her before he knew that says a lot about their friendship. Those are the sorts of things he had thought about deeply before committing himself, and he isn't about to doubt her now, not after all that.

It still irks him slightly, though - even counting in the fact it is his fault for not asking for the other side of the secret sooner. "So," he asks finally, "how much did you know about Tyria before you came here?"

"Enough to have brain-washed myself into believing it was real before I came," Tiffany replies promptly. "I didn't just play Hero of Shaemoor to killing Mordremoth, I went and looked up all the history - there was a prequel concerning the events of all sorts of things, like Orr's sinking and rising, the human-charr conflict in Ascalon, and all sorts of other things. I didn't play the prequel, but I researched all the historical information it contained. I was familiar with maps of Tyria, everything. We both fit right in when we arrived."

Forgal frowns, noticing something. "You keep saying 'play' - isn't this a book?"

Tiffany sighs. "This is the awful lot of technology I'd warned about. It isn't a book, it's a video game. Think asuran console, used for entertainment. You control one character and run around the world, doing things. And people talk - not like golems, which are single recorded words - but whole conversations recorded at once with emotions and emphasis."

"Interesting," Forgal mutters, picturing it. "I can see why this sort of thing hasn't taken off in Tyria - Spirits forbid the asura allow anybody to use their consoles for entertainment."

Tiffany giggles. "Right. Except they aren't really asuran consoles - they aren't holographic, for one thing, more like a flat screen. And tiny in comparison." Tiffany holds her hands apart about a foot. "This is about how big my monitor was," she informs him.

"You played Tyria on something that small?" Forgal marvels, and the sisters laugh for some reason.

"It's called Guild Wars 2," Fiona instructs him.

"You sound like a veteran of video games already," Tiffany says at the same time. "It really is bigger than it seems, at least for the sorts of things you do on a… we called them laptops, or computers. Depending on whether you could move them around much."

"So, let me get this straight," Forgal says slowly. "You lived in a different world - without magic - and you played one of these 'video games' and learned about Tyria, and then one day you arrived here?"

"Pretty much," Fiona nods.

"The question I have," Forgal notes, "is how you came to Tyria. Not the map thing, but… I don't know. What was it like on the Tyrian side?"

Tiffany tilts her head. "Well, it was like our whole history had been preparing us so that when we arrived…"

"First, you've got to remember that we only got here about six m…" Fiona trails off. "A Season and a half ago." At Forgal curious glance, she elaborates, "I was about to use an earth unit of time measurement. Twelve months in a year, four weeks in a month. We had seasons, but we didn't use them for measuring time."

Forgal nods. "I see."

Tiffany picks up again. "So, we kind of replaced the people who had been living our life before, but they were so similar to us. In fact, I'm not entirely sure if our memories weren't just added to 'who we were before.' 'Who we were before' had the same personality as us, though, so we can't tell the difference. That's Beorn's theory, anyway, and his opinion is kind of the one that matters most."

Forgal grimaces. "I can't imagine my companion suddenly being somebody else, but with the same personality… that would be quite odd."

Tiffany nods. "I think Beorn's attitude - that it's just extra memories - is the reason why I feel more at home in Tyria. I've noticed that, more and more, I've started ignoring my original world in favor of belonging to this one. For example, I haven't lived in this room for a Season and a half, I've lived in it for twenty-some years. I just noted that earlier today, Fiona. I thought 'twenty-four years' and didn't even think about the fact that it's kind of weird in that area."

Fiona frowns. "That's… odd, I guess. I still feel like I'm a visitor in Tyria, honestly. I mean, I have the memories of a life here, and I care about the people I've grown up with, but I just don't feel… home."

"Here's the test," Forgal suggests. "If you could go back to earth, would you? If you couldn't come back here after."

Tiffany frowns for a moment. "No, I don't think so," she says at last. "I suppose it depends who I could take with me."

"Just yourself," Fiona replies. "You wouldn't want to take anybody else out of _their_ native land, would you?"

"Right," Tiffany nods. "In that case, I'd stay here. Dragons need killing, lives need saving…"

"In return for _other_ lives," Fiona mutters under her breath, but Forgal catches it.

He frowns; Fiona is obviously talking about Deborah. Does she… resent him for not dying? Does she think he is to blame for Deborah's death?

Tiffany, who hadn't heard the comment, continues brightly, "and I have friends here. Not that I don't have friends on earth," she adds, with a frown, "but… I don't know. I have _more_ friends in Tyria, I guess. I do miss Tangwen, though…"

"I _know,_" Fiona worries.

Forgal grimaces. "Your situation is worse than it looks on first sight," he says sympathetically.

"We didn't even _think_ about any of these problems when we came in," Tiffany adds with a grimace of her own. "We thought 'ooh! Tyria's _real_!' and jumped. It's just lucky our Tyrian selves knew how to fight, or we'd have been trampled by centaurs."

Forgal frowns. "Wait, so…"

"We didn't fight on earth, no - I was a researcher, a nerd." Tiffany replies. "Probably why I had such a strong reaction to the whole 'end-of-Mordremoth' thing…"

The whole 'story' thing is coming into perspective to Forgal. Even her stressed-out, intense conversation about Trahearne dying had been about a video game. "So you really are a nerd," he notes.

Tiffany laughs. "Yes, I was always told that. I believed Tyria was real, even if, in my heart of hearts, I didn't. But I was right, though! Tyria _is_ real, and I'm changing history." She smiles smugly.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

This chapter was a bit longer than normal, but that's okay, it's the epilogue. (Did _Reforging the Edge_ have a longer-than-normal epilogue?)

However, the fact that it _is_ an epilogue means it's time to say goodbye to _Book Four: Trinity Rising_. It's been a wild ride - full of highly-anticipated things (like the Dream) to the really-big chapter that marked both the anniversary of the _Tassof Series_, the eightieth chapter in the series, _and_ the launch into the whole Pact thing.

Again, it's been a wild ride, and _Trinity Rising_ may remain unequaled for momentuous events - the biggest turning point in the _Tassof Series_ \- for the rest of however many years (and anniversary chapters) it takes to write this whole long laborious project.

So, the next book will be called _Book Five: The Unbroken_. Yes, I stole the name from an Anet poll years ago about what to name Dragon's Watch. It's approptiate, though, which is why I chose it. (Fiona doesn't agree but won't tell me why, so I decided to use it anyway.)

Good-bye 'till next time!


End file.
